Ancient Lewds (Frieren TG) (Patreon)

“Why do you never talk about the village of elves?”

Frieren was tossing about in bed, that comment in passing from Stark easily shrugged off, yet she always felt nostalgic when her cycle came about. Of all her secrets, well it’s not exactly that she kept it all that tightly, she just never bothered to confirm or deny much, even when she had been taken in after the destruction it was more a happy coincidence than her truly trying to trick Flamme and she was generally not that talkative or open even before she had accidentally transfigured herself. That was half of why Serie was always so prickly, though she was tactful enough to never mention it to Flamme which was nice of her even if she’d probably pass it off as just a whim or something when pressed. She might as well indulge in her own memories for the night, this trip down memory lane always good material when the old cycle turned back around to the moment she became Frieren.

Of course even before those times she had never been much for socializing, always late to rise to the annoyance of her parents, though back then it was ‘his’ parents when he had been a sullen lad named Friedrich. Early on he had quickly decided he’d never become just another farmer or tradesman, the world calling to him from outside his city’s walls as from a young age he’d bum around in the public libraries, indulging in various scrolls and bound tomes as the wonders of magic filled his brain more than anything. Not that he let it show. Most mentors called him inexpressive or unfocused despite an aptitude for scribe work though admittedly much of those early years were hazy after a millennia.

Most had urged him away from adventuring due to his curiosity which they labeled as ‘aloof idiocy’ all because he had fallen for a mimic chest every time they had gone into a basic dungeon. Personally he found it a waste to avoid such obvious treasures just ‘cause of a 99% chance, most great advances found by the risky fools who took chances even if it sometimes meant on the road he’d be covered in mimic tongue slime for days after he blasted his way out their gullets. There was an unbeatable satisfaction in knowing you’ve found something no one else would have which was what sent him on his own unmoored adventures, no goal beyond collecting grimoires and adding to the vast pool of magic in his own way. If he remembered to share said spells while traveling that is.

A year into his adventures and he had already collected multiple shelves worth of books which he had to float in a magically enhanced trunk, and while others spent their lives poring over the goddesses texts, Friedrich had always been after more sylvan scriptures. That goddess stuff was too faith based and overpowering. The idea of finding some spell that could flay a town of nonbelievers or send you through time was a bother, especially with so many bandits on the prowl, though his infamy for collecting “worthless spells” had given him a reputation that made most not even glance his way on his adventures. He liked worldly spells that could do something simple and since elves had the collected knowledge of thousands of years spent living, that meant thousands of years to be bored and think up even greater numbers of magically offloaded chores and labors.

That was what had set him towards what was derogatorily called the elves' brothel dungeon, named such for how thoroughly it had been explored, conquered and then left aside. What was curious to Friedrich was the talk of how many mimics were near the bottom floor and how no one really bothered to check since all the good stuff had been looted. He had heard about it for ages but the problem with an abandoned dungeon is most people removed it from all maps because no one cared to mark it as a point of interest. This led to a few years of tracking it down, the elves always secretive and their villages guarded, and it was hard to make people want to help when he barely had enough money for his own travels and rations, but compared to her future leisurely paced travels this was barely any time at all.

Frieren was slipping off her nightgown as she remembered the equally nervous anticipation when he had entered the temple turned dungeon, a number of low level monsters all that slowed his journey to the bottom floors until he had found what he had longed for. Dozens and dozens of suspiciously placed chests scattered in a great antechamber that bore scuff marks from where whatever metals had adorned its walls had been scraped off. He had known for certain then what had to be done, all that was needed was the will.

It took thirty seven tries, his clothes all in tatters after rows and rows of mimic teeth serrating and trying to lick and gobble him down, the slime and slobber making it difficult for them to really latch on when it was layered like this, but while the chest had seemed like any other mimic, Frieren remembered the rush when he noticed no teeth trying to chew, the mimic mouth a disguised tunnel that swallowed him to a hidden floor, a single grimoire raised upon an altar surrounded by statues so ancient their features had long since crumbled to mystery. Even if Friedrich had known what she knew now, she doubted they could have ever resisted such a tempting grimoire, such closely guarded magic surely something that had to be read. Besides the second he had touched the leather and vellum a warm haze had suffused their being, making the act of opening and reading its contents like some dirty form of self pleasure.

The grimoire was so effective in mesmerizing him that he had barely even cared when the entire room gleamed white, finding it more convenient than anything to worry about when the hard stone turned to cushioned bedspreads. Of course there was a vague awareness of something happening as his eyes drank in the grimoire’s contents, Frieren remembering this oddly massaging pressure running around her eyes back then, a few tears leaking out as lashes fluttered, the book’s bright glow gently filling him with mana as the backs of their well worn palms subtly reverted to a level of smoothness not felt since childhood. But when did she first notice what was happening?

She remembered the pulses of mana flashing while he read, the hot haze of magic swirling into his body sizzling away the layers of mimic spit, even his clothes burnt away by the great magic spilling in, but that hadn’t tipped him off. Honestly it had been a nice boon to the reading, Frieren nude as she rubbed against her skin as she remembered rubbing her cock against the comforting space, only able to focus on the bliss of the spell itself as he read. There was a dissociative effect built into the spell, so even as he decoded sentence after sentence, there was this hard to explain separation from what it was saying and the fact it was all happening to him. Ah yes a spell for helping elves bring more into the fold in case the population dwindled. The spell’s creator including a lengthy description of how good it felt when they finished it even if it meant they too had succumbed to femininity in making it, the descriptions all so vivid and arousing to her former human self.

It wasn’t the dazzling light pouring into every pore, mana making him sweat out every scar and blemish, nor was it the way his voice rose. This wasn’t exactly a fast spell so even as his voice had crept up till it sounded boyish, then girly before finally ringing out soft and womanly, it wasn’t like his monotone had changed all that much and it even made it more soothing. She really tried to remember, not the plushness of his lips nor the heat in his body tipping him off. Was it when his dark hair started growing? No no that had led to him growing aware but wasn’t the moment itself. It was when the growing locks being burnt white with mana had begun matting to his cheeks and becoming a bother that it happened, his right hand moving back to flick it from view, innocuously swiping by his ear when it happened.

She forgot how long it took to grow used to them, Frieren remembering weeks after where even accidentally rolling onto her side led to her waking up in a delirious orgasm, elf ears ten times more sensitive than human ones, though she’d be lying if there weren’t times she missed the intensity she had felt back when his hand had thoughtlessly cupped his own. How could she forget? One moment reading, the next moment cumming his brains out as glowing white cum sprayed everywhere. Then again it was all such a blur, both hands suddenly latching onto his ears as he squeezed and jerked them as if they were cocks, his airy voice echoing in bliss as it all came back to her as she rubbed her own wagging ears, trying not to gasp too openly as she tried to let it all wash over her.

Goddess it had felt incredible, the moment the bases popped, turning loose as he grabbed them, squeezing them out longer as if made from clay instead of flesh, the sensation maddening as they gradually pulled from his skull, hands caressing recessed earlobes, the backs arching into large cones that made his bursting cock feel impotent compared to what a single stroke of his new ears did to his entire body. And then the sounds, hearing such a soft feminine voice amplified, the quiet imperceptible shifts of his skull like a chorus of change as he could hear the bones shifting about. The one thing that didn’t stop was his voice. Sure he had been shrieking and moaning yet his lips weren’t allowed to stop reading even as he flung the grimoire away, every page already chained into the reading even as the glow of the book suffused his gruff hands with sylvan sensuality as they cracked and softened before his eyes.

At that point the mana stopped being gentle, or maybe it was just because of his heightened awareness, his skin visibly bathing as the brightness drilled inside, mana flushing out any tan from his complexion, his entire body luxuriously rejuvenated as nothing but the most sensually smooth, perfect skin was visible, the room saturated in mana as it felt like his entire body was one giant elf ear. It’s partly why Frieren enjoyed having a thick blanket on top of her in the centuries since, the sensations of your entire body being simultaneously pressed down and penetrated impossible to properly recreate even if she had tried in the centuries of seclusion since. It was like the air itself had been fucking him, invisibly squeezing against his resistant shoulders, his muscle from years of travel trying to resist and finding itself unequipped for the job.

Similar to how it felt when his ears had swiveled, she remembered the full body heaving as mana shaved away her frame, the popping sound of shoulders shunting inwards, that phantom erectness pulsing as pound of muscle were driven out, arms shrinking as it ran under her nipples. Frieren still recalled the mixed feelings he had felt then, two upwards thrusts making his body writhe, that inviting pink swelling with need, with promise, the lust building to something utterly mind rending and then promptly running further down and out his cock.

He hadn’t wanted breasts then. Surely he didn’t and was putting up some kind of fight, but it was obviously inevitable and Frieren could remember the torturous teasing that followed. The expec- er horror as his arms melted to supple, thin twigs, all of it swimming under his nipples and… gushing out his cock. Even the great bulk of his shoulders being shunted around, waves of flesh spilling down, condensing, teasing his nipples from the inside as they surged, hands unable to help themselves as they squashed his rising, needy mounds. Which promptly flattened and erupted out his cock yet again. Which was fine he didn’t want to be a girl anyways it was just frustration in the moment at it all being delayed when it was obvious what had to happen.

Frieren was circling her own tits, remembering those moments when mana drilled into his spine, arching it back, each incredible, orgasmic pop thrusting out that nearly flat chest of theirs, the mounds firming as they jutted slightly, his cock still easily framed as he prepared for that incredible flood of growth like in his ears, the violent orgasms… draining that all away. Not that she’d ever tell any of this to anyone, but she definitely wasn’t massaging them like she was now or anything in a frustrated state and getting excited when his core started gurgling. Because she didn’t want them at the time. Or now. Her own chest was perfectly fine and it didn’t bother her at the thought that maybe more muscle would surely have been converted if her human self had more than the wiry strength of an average adventurer.

Sorry where was she in the memory? Oh yes, her core. It wasn’t like Friedrich the adventurer had cared enough to build great strength, only that which was necessary to competently clear dungeons and collect more grimoires. Imagining that sight again of all those years of adventuring churning and jostling like jello, ribs being corseted inwards as her spine bent as if all the mana was thrusting into the small of it… Well there was a reason she always thought of it now when she needed a turn on, though he had been a bit disappointed when all that muscle in his bulging, forming pot belly of shrunken mass hadn’t even sent some slivers up to his- Er no that all his power was being drained was horrifying. Yes, horror. That fit the sensations well in his mind and it didn’t feel like the goddess was personally ravaging his innards with a wand or anything.

Well whatever thoughts she had been thinking then hardly mattered the moment it all flooded under his cock, the lack of disappointment forgotten as every ounce of core strength had pried his hips apart, slamming his smooth thighs into his cock as everything seemed to burst. She was palming her cheeks as she remembered the way they had surged, rolling his body repeatedly when they had come in stages, thighs unable to stop jerking his cock off for all it was worth as he continued moaning out the spell, that squashed thigh gap doing what his tiny breasts couldn’t as it buried his cock from sight even as he felt gush after gush of mass hose down his calves and feet.

And really Frieren was happy with her body shape. She liked having hips wider than her shoulders. Practically speaking it kept mimics from swallowing her easily and her tits were fine as is. Weren’t they feeling incredible even now as she harshly groped one while definitely not thinking about how easily her shrunken hands could fit them in their grip. Plus it felt incredible grinding her hips against her bed, something she had learned pretty quickly back then when his thighs continued to stroke out every drop of cum they could manage.

So even if there had definitely been a point where he had made a disappointed frown and tried to shut his mouth, it wasn’t because his female form was flat. He simply hadn’t wanted to be a flat girl. Correction the past him did not want to be a girl period and it wasn’t something that had bothered her for centuries and- Crap she was ruining it, better get to the main thing.

Despite how coercive and effective the spell was through his grumbling lips, one thing remained even as his legs finished feminizing, dainty toes clenching against the temple sheets as they melted to sylvan softness. No matter how mind meltingly good it felt and how eagerly he had embraced the changes, few things made an adult male panic like a threat to their cock. Frieren was already damp from the memories, but her heart thumped as she recalled how panicked he had felt when that first inwards suck winded him. It had been too shocking to enjoy, the feeling of an entire shaft suddenly slotting into your innards where it almost felt like someone had punched his diaphragm.

She teased the edges of her folds as she remembered how desperately he had clawed at his shaft only to find it too tender to touch without countless orgasms firing out, how his clumsy dainty fingers felt like a goddess touching his burning shaft before quickly patting at the churning balls below. And oh goddess did she remember the moment her palms slapped into them, shunting the shriveled things inside. Friedrich had never cared much for members of the opposite sex, or really any sex and except when the spell hit another cycle, Frieren had done little to change that lack of interest. Partly because she had basically spent half a year masturbating in seclusion in the aftermath and had thoroughly tired of anything sexual by the time she had grown accustomed to her new body, but there was also the simple fact of how that moment seared the sensation into her head and how if anything, a millennia had reinforced the simple fact that nothing could compare to that final change.

She tried not to think about it too often because it always got her damp, but she remembered tears of bliss streaming down her cheeks as every drop of seed was ejected, some barrier she knew she could never return from being crossed as her fingers poked into the shallow slit. It still took a month to resolutely accept her new sex internally, but there was simply little you could do but take it. At least she had put up some kind of effort, her shaft slowly pulsing as she remembered watching it between her scrambling thighs, the tip pinkening as some invisible force wrapped around the edges and squeezed, the veins bulging against the skin before receding into the shaft, so many tendons and tubes tugged as the base began to sink into her slit. Now whether the tensed resistance was a pure reflex from being fucked so thoroughly or even just her desperation to feel it longer as the skin of her shaft flexed and sank… Well it hardly mattered now.

Some parts had to be filled in. Friedrich had wanted to at least see the whole messy process as her cock fucked itself into oblivion but eventually it had become too much, every inch of her awareness on fire as it thrust and thrust, mana pouring in as her hips were rocked in increasing intensity till she had flipped over and nearly passed out from the touch of cloth to her engorged, twisting clit. Frieren did her best to muffle herself as she fingered her dripping slit, remembering her final moments as a man, the view not too dissimilar to the white sheets she was buried into as her entire body had launched forwards to air out her burning crotch.

That was how her final moments went, her hips raised like a bitch in heat, her own cock plugging away at her insides as her self fucking drove her face harder and harder against the temple floors, carving her pixie pussy deeper and harder, spreading her labia as the gash widened, its slow demise forever imprinting the spell into her as her cock compressed and flattened. Those final moments could have lasted seconds or hours, Frieren struggling to properly explain what it felt like, the burning shocks as her clit had been pinched by her labia before slipping in, that plunging pop as her shaft smeared itself to the walls of her slit and the final internal scramble as her hips quaked, her new sex announcing its completion with a mana laden spray of clear, crystalline fluids.

That whole post period had been a haze of bliss and hell, the wider magics of the temple keeping her sated till she could become a member of the village, which kept her sequestered from the world long enough to gain a handle of her body until the demon’s attack had broken the magic, an utterly exhausted, fully integrated Frieren left wrapped in the sheets of her magical womb, stumbling onto Flamme who immediately assumed she had to be a survivor. And really it had all worked out, Frieren quickly (in elf terms) finding out she truly was as long lived as any elf by birth and there was nothing to separate her from a normal one of her (it didn’t take long to shed any attachment to being human) kind. Except for one thing that is; the entire reason she was fingering herself roughly and trying not to make a big scene.

The original spell was a way to up the elf population, very little biological imperatives present in such a long lived race, so there was always a careful balance between an evolutionary derived absence of sex drive and the stagnation and eventual ruination that could cause. So not only was Frieren turned into an elf, but a special cycle was built into her new body. It had taken about three cycles to realize what was happening, a big part of why Frieren had holed herself up for so long away from society was due to how intense this cycle was, the grimoire that had changed her still in her possession that explained the chunks she had been too busy cumming between to fully understand.

If no new elves were born periodically, her sex drive would activate, periodically for elves meaning once every century that passed as Frieren feverishly finger fucked herself to drive out the magical urge to breed. Honestly she’d enjoy it more often if it wasn’t such a pain to keep track of, usually keeping it as a fun surprise from her routine when the hot flashes started, but as long as she pretended she was sick for a week, it should all work itself out.

The main issue was she hadn’t stored any backup money which meant she was sharing a room with Fern. Really she should find a fix for at least this cycle of intense lust like she said she would when she brought the grimoire along on her journey with the hero party, but so much kept getting in the way and now she was here left gritting her teeth and hoping Fern was a deep enough sleeper to get away with this side effect. Where even had she left that stupid book? It was somewhere jumbled about her specialty storage chest, but there was no way she could go to Stark’s room in this state. This was just a trial she’d have to overcome once and then it would all go back to-

“Pervert!”

Frieren froze at the annoyed grumble from Fern, realizing how dumb it was to get lost in thought, wondering just how much Fern had heard of her self pleasure as she peaked her head out from the covers, flicking out damp fingers as she tried to ignore her throbbing slit. Except as wider awareness returned, so too did a horrifying realization, Frieren noticing her pleasured shrieks echoing through the walls, no amount of muffling enough to stop the very clear, very loud sobs of pleasure. That on its own would be horrible enough to realize, but what made it all the more shocking was that Frieren wasn’t the one making them.

“What is that pervert thinking! I thought Stark was better than this but he’s been yelling like this for a while… I didn’t want to wake you up but… he’s yelling your name. Could you help me deal with this useless perverted-”

Fern was definitely huffy over that last part, Frieren scooping up her bedsheets and making a makeshift robe to clothe herself, already thinking how she’d explain this as they went next door, Fern motioning to knock and Frieren not even bothering as she opened to a completely expected sight for her, and an impossible nightmare for Fern.

The only sign of Stark was in the fading red and black from his bursting twintails and the rings of mass crawling up his slender calves, his back bridged as Frieren watched a half inserted cock leak, the misplaced grimoire next to some half torn bedding it had fallen from when she assumed Stark had gone through the chest to get ready for bed. It did bring her some satisfaction as his cock plunged inside, one smooth, constant fucking with none of the resistance or duration hers had taken,  his shrunken form rolling back and forth as he moaned her name, her staff between his thighs as she heard it invert with an envious throb of her own folds.

“Wh-What- How did- Why is Stark… Stark is that? I don’t… Miss Frieren, say something!”

Frieren wasn’t sure what to say, Stark identical to her in every way beyond tone, a lot more freaked out yet still moaning as she could tell every cell in his body was overcharged and overwhelming. He truly was identical from the wider curves of his hips to the long ears twitching that he kept grinding against a floorboard as a copy of her slit oozed lust. Yet amidst all the mess and shock and scraps of a newly christened elf, all Frieren could focus on was Stark’s equally pitiful chest. A realization struck her then, all her problems fading under this one truth before her eyes.

“Oh, I guess it really wouldn’t have mattered if I had worked out all those years back. Guess it just makes us all equally flat. Ha.”

And with that a smug Frieren felt a weight off her chest, not that it was all that weighed down in the first place while a horny twin and a completely confused Fern stared at her oddly proud face.