You look down at the unconscious form of your former master. The man who took you from a life of poverty and obscurity and gave you education, a purpose. A famous mage known far and wide for his advancements in magic and the betterment of all mankind. The man who deliberately wiped out an entire intelligent species on the brink of becoming something more than their violent past had dictated.
You frown and blow air through your pursed, plump lips. He is restrained by your vines for now, but he will wake sooner rather than later, and once he does, you know he won’t not stop until he destroys you. Then, he will go hunting for Honey and the babies.
The smartest action would be to just kill him. You know that. Gods, he deserves it. But despite his sins, you still feel as if you owe him. For the life he gave you, for where it led you. After all, if he had never brought you here then you’d never have been taken by the vines. You’d never have become Queen of the dryads. Honey and the babies wouldn’t exist.
“What do you think I should do?” you ask the two fern hounds watching you. One barks at you. “Thanks. Real helpful. Alright, fuck it. Let’s do this.”
Shielding your mind, you plunge deep into the ocean of the world’s magic and draw power into yourself. Your body begins to buzz, then burn, as you fill with magic, but you keep sucking it up. Finally, when you feel as if you are about to burst, you send the magic pouring out into the forest around you. Deafening creaks and groans fill the air as the forest responds to your will. All around the cleared hill the forest shakes, then, tearing their roots free from the earth, the trees march forward till they cover the entire hill. The ground beneath your feet shakes and then violently erupts as massive roots and vines spew forth, wrapping themselves around the mage’s tower. Up and up they climb till they cover every last inch of stone. When everything stops moving at last, the tower is gone. In its place stands a massive tree that towers above the forest. At its base, a lone wooden door the only evidence anything hides inside.
Chest heaving with exertion, you nod once in satisfaction. The massive tree did more than just hide the mage’s tower from sight, it also blocked it from any magical means of detection and sealed any magical defences your former master may have set up until you have time to take care of them.
The tower taken care of, you draw on your magic again, less this time though, and turn your focus to the unconscious mage. You squat down beside him and study him for a moment. Then, placing a hand on his chest, you let the magic flow into him.
You feel an unexpected spike of pain, like a rush of energy up your arm. Fuck, you think. Magical defences of some sort. You ignore the pain and push more magic into him until soon he is bathed in a brilliant green light, his defences overwhelmed and his clothes dissolve in a shower of sparkles.
Under your touch you feel his frame shrinking, his solid muscular body melting away to reform into a new, smaller, feminine form. Much smaller, in fact. Her body feels almost like it is deflating, becoming slight and slender. You watch, transfixed, as her breasts come in. Budding from her thin chest they slowly grow with each breath, swelling upwards into your hand until they fill it. But you are surprised when they stop there. Large, yes, but significantly smaller than yours or Honey’s heavenly bosoms. Yet, you have to admit, their pertness and pointy nipples look amazing on her tiny body.
Changes come rapidly now. Every flaw in her skin disappears, becoming smooth and hairless before shifting to a pale green that lightens to almost paper white in some places. Her body continues to lose mass and definition. Her neck becomes long and slender, reminding you of a bird, while her arms and legs become equally thin. A mess of dark earthy brown curls explodes from her head, as her face morphs to take on that high-cheek, large eye, other-worldly appearance that has become so familiar to you lately. Her thighs, hips and ass plump a little, just enough to give a hint of womanly figure.
Finally, the changes are complete, and a brand-new dryad lies sleeping beneath your hand. Complete, that is, except for one place. Just as had happened with Honey, this dryad too has a massive cock standing at attention from her crotch.
Juices running down your leg, pussy burning with need, you hungrily engulf her mighty cock in your mouth. Your head bobs up and down, your tongue eager to taste every inch, as you give your first ever blowjob. You aren’t sure what compelled you to do so. You’ve never even heard of a woman using her mouth before, though admittedly, you lived a sheltered life here in this tower. But you can’t stop. The feel of her cock, both hard and soft at the same time, filling your mouth, rubbing against your tongue. Even the musky smell filling your nose. It’s intoxicating. Your fingers find their way down to your pussy and you finger yourself as you work her shaft.
After several amazing orgasms you pull your mouth from her cock with a wet slurp. Then, kneeling over her waist, you impale yourself on her. “Oh, oh gods,” you moan as the huge green cock fills you. You bounce up and down on her cock, feeling your orgasm build, when you feel her throb and spray her cum inside you. The sensation of semen inside your womb again is electric. You orgasm so hard you don’t notice for several deep breaths that her cock is gone, transformed into a tiny, perfect slit.
As you kneel over her, your pussy pressed against hers, the dryads’ bright yellow eyes flutter open for the first time. They focus on you and her plump green lips part in a smile that reveals tiny, white teeth and two pointed fangs.
“Hello, mother,” she says. Her voice sweet and almost child-like. “Thank you for waking me.”
“Hello,” you say. Those teeth are interesting. First time you’ve seen a dryad with anything like that. “Do you know who you are?”
“I’m your daughter,” she says. Her eye lids don’t open all the way, giving her a sleepy expression, you find adorable.
“You are my daughter,” you say. “But I am not just your mother. I am also your Queen.”
“My Queen,” she repeats. She repeats the word a few more times, seemingly savouring it. “My Queen, why are you sitting on me?”
You laugh and climb to your feet, then with thought release the vines that had been holding the new dryad down. You offer her a hand and help her to her feet. She’s shorter than you, barely coming to your neck, and she’s even smaller than you had originally thought. She makes you think of wood nymphs from fairy tales your mother had once told you. Naughty little forest children. Except, behind that sleepy façade you spot a keen mind observing you right back.
“What now, my Queen?” asks the new dryad, her arms folded under her perky breasts. She’s watching you. No, not watching. She’s observing. Studying you.
You look up at the enormous tree encasing the mage’s tower, then back at your daughter. Without warning, you reach out with your mind and force her to her knees with your will. She gasps as her legs fold under her and she hits the grass. You hold her there while you examine her body with your magic. Then, just as suddenly, you withdraw.
For a moment you had been concerned that something of your former master still remained in your new daughter. Something haughty and conceited. But you found nothing. Well, not entirely nothing. You had found that, unlike Honey, this one has an extremely strong aptitude for magic. Both her physical vessel and the spirit summoned to fill it. Perhaps different dryad spirits were attracted to different types of vessels?
“Mother? Why?” she gasps, shakily climbing back to her feet. “Did I displease you in some way?”
You make a slashing motion towards her with your hand. “Cut the act,” you say. “What do you remember of your past life?”
She eyes you for a moment until you raise an eyebrow at her. “Alright, alright. I remember some. Very little,” she says. “I remember pain. I remember anger. But I don’t remember having a Queen.”
You nod. “Times change. In the past, dryads had no kinship with one another. Maybe with the original, but probably not even then,” you say. “And because of your inability to work together, you all died.”
Her brow is creased as she listens to you. “But I brought you back. I took a human man, a powerful mage as it happens, and I defeated him. I devoured his soul, and then I crafted his body into a vessel for you.”
“I think I begin to understand,” Liana says. She looks down at her body, touches it. “Then, this form is not grown of a tree?”
“That’s right. You have no tree, not anymore,” you say. “Instead, you have a Queen.”
She is nodding slowly now. “Yes. I do understand now. You are my tree,” she says. “But you are more. You are also my mother, and my Queen.”
“Good. Glad to have that all sorted out,” you say. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. You realise suddenly that you had been but moments away from being challenged by this new dryad, and with the latent power you can sense in her it would have been much a more difficult fight than against your former master.
“Do you have a name?” you ask. You’re not surprised when she shakes her head in the negative. “Very well. I will call you Liana.”
“Liana?” she asks. Her tongue darts across her fangs.
“It’s a type of vine,” you explain, gesturing to the thin, woody vines covering the tower-tree. “Slender, but tough. They strangle their hosts in order to reach the canopy and the precious sunlight.”
Liana smiles slyly. Oh yes. This one is going to be real trouble.
You look back the tree encased tower. Sealed and hidden as it is, you decide you can’t just leave it here. For one, it’s too far to keep an eye on in case anyone came looking for your former master. And for another, you can’t afford to spend time traveling back and forth if you want to ransack its secrets. That leaves only one thing left to do.
“Come here, Liana,” you say. You also summon the fern hounds to your side with a mental command. “Hold my hand, daughter.”
Clasping Liana’s hand in yours, you plunge your mind once more into that vast ocean of wild magic and draw on its power. The earth beneath your feet trembles, then quakes, and suddenly you are moving. No, the entire hill, tower and trees, is moving. Rolling like a wave, the hill rumbles through the forest, trees rising and falling in your path. Slow at first, then picking up speed until it’s moving at a terrifying speed. Wind whips yours and Liana’s hair about your faces. The fern hounds are howling and cowering in fright. Liana screams and clutches tightly at your hand, and you laugh in sheer exhilaration.
Then, all too soon, the hill slows its mad rush through the forest and then finally comes to a stop before melting down into the earth and leaving the tree encased tower sitting next to your castle. With a final burst of power, you reshape a corner of your castle to connect with the tower, making it another part of your home.
“You can open your eyes now,” you say to Liana who is clutching your leg and shaking. “We’re home.”