A Charmed Life by Right Wing Attack Dog
Summary: **Chapter 3 completely re-written, July 19** A young woman becomes an unwitting (if not unwilling) hero when it comes to a certain young man who is more boy than man it seems. Stuck together with but a wild mustang stallion for company, the two must work together to find her family before winter rolls onto the range.
Categories: Giantess, Adventure, Feet, Gentle, Humiliation, Insertion, Mouth Play, Violent, Vore Characters: None
Growth: Giga (1 mi. to 100 mi.)
Shrink: None
Size Roles: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: No Word count: 9484 Read: 70714 Published: September 20 2008 Updated: September 03 2009

1. Chapter 1 by Right Wing Attack Dog

2. Chapter 2 by Right Wing Attack Dog

3. Chapter 3 by Right Wing Attack Dog

4. Chapter 4 by Right Wing Attack Dog

Chapter 1 by Right Wing Attack Dog

yawns and wonders why she's up at midnight writing this. Oh, it's for you guys. I can't help it. I've seen one too many corny GTS stories (whether it be here or elsewhere) and I have to throw in my own. Although this one will be better than the last one I wrote (and probably won't finish) and it most assuredly won't be corny. If there is corniness, it will have been intended. So, without further ado, A Charmed Life.

                                                                                                         A Charmed Life


                                                                                                    Right Wing Attack Dog

Eric was crouched and ready for battle. His sword was drawn, antique though it was, and the heavier pieces of his clothing, such as his cloak and saddle bags, had been discarded on the ground. He just hoped he could talk his pursuers out of battle.

"Now, gentlemen, I'm sure there is some way we can avoid unnecessary blood-shed." He smiled tremulously and shifted his feet to get better footing on the rocky slope. He would need every advantage if he planned to win.

"Not likely," growled a burly man. An echo of agreements copied his words, some verbatim and others with their own style. One brave person stepped forward, wishing to be the one who took the credit for this victory. He drew his rapier and advanced on the boy.

With a quick, downward stroke, the middle-aged man did his best destabilize the younger's footing. However, what resulted was his stumbling and the younger man relieving him of his sword with a quick parry.

Eric smiled in victory when he felt his blade sink into his opponent's flesh and saw the glint of light on metal that indicated the sword's flight. His smile became slightly evil when he heard the sharp clank that announced the thin sword landing on the rocky ground, a good distance from them.

"Anyone else wish to try me?" he asked over the man's howling cries, assured of his victory over the hired men. "And am I correct to assume that my father sent you to bring me back home?" Growls and scowls were his answer. "Well then, you can leave now mostly intact and tell him I will not, under any circumstances other than those I have already set forth, return home. Now shoo."  He waved his sword and empty hand at them as a woman would when shooing an animal from her path.

Just as the young man, who was still very much a boy in some ways, was about to hassle his father's thugs, a loud, piercing cry resounded through the air and the earth began to shake as if the whole planet had been grabbed between two giant hands and shaken like a snow globe.

Looking up, the group saw a massive black shadow swiftly approaching. They quickly discovered that it was not a shadow but, instead, a giant horse and rider. The rider was a young woman, hardly more than a girl. She wore short denim shorts, a tight blue t-shirt with no sleeves and cowboy boots.

The horse was a massive black stallion and did not appear to be pleased with its rider. The animal had its head down and back feet in the air, alternately bucking and running. There were times when it screamed with frustration, angry that the person on its back would not come off like all the others had.

The now extremely dwarfed group was frozen in fear of the horse and rider. None could move, except for Eric. The young man took this opportunity to flee into the scrub, throwing his cloak on and grabbing his saddle bags as he went.  He cursed the loss of his horse.  It would have been so much easier to escape if his charger had not broken its leg during the initial flight.  Now, he was stuck fleeing on foot.

Eric watched through the trees, unable to help his curiosity--morbid though it was--as the horse and rider advanced on the still shocked group.  He wanted to turn away, to not look at the demise of the men, but was unable.


Tor Keller rode the wild, unbroken stallion with all the strength and tenacity she normally did.  However, her strength was pushed to a whole new level on this particular ride.  Her idiot brothers were to blame.  But that was for another time.

Gritting her teeth and clamping her jaw, Tor clenched her firm thighs around the saddle and double checked the position of her heels, making sure they were down and her toes pointed out.  She readjusted her grip on the reigns, quickly throwing her hand back into the air to keep her balance on the mustang.

"Alright, boy," she growled, "this is uncharted territory for the both of us.  But that sure as hell don't mean that I'm about to let you throw me off.  I've never been thrown and I'm not about to start such a bad habit.  It'd likely  kill me."  She looked up to gauge just where this rogue horse was taking them only to see a group of small men huddled in fear.  Well, they ought to be scared!  I just wish they'd be scared somewhere else!  "Move it!" she yelled at them; no one moved except for one lone figure that stole into the bushes. 

"Smooth, real smooth.  Now I have to watch out for those idiots and one more that I can't even see!"  Reaching down, she grabbed the reigns with both hands and tried to pull the horse's head up, hoping to stop the bucking.  However, she wasn't strong enough to accomplish her goal, so she settled for something else.

Letting the reigns slacken slightly, she gave the stallion a false sense of victory before sharply yanking the reigns to the right.  This drew the animal's head in that direction as well.  In turn, the stallion was thrown off balance because of the timing of the yank, in the middle of a buck.  He scrambled for footing, desperately trying to remain upright, but to no avail.  Shortly after Tor's risky move, the stallion lost his footing and fell.

"Oh hell no!" his rider yelled. She swiftly drew her leg from the left stirrup, drawing it up and over the saddle horn to protect it from getting scraped.  However, she wasn't quite fast enough and ended up having the outside of her thigh and knee severely scraped.  She hissed through clenched teeth, avoiding outright yelling.  Biting her lip in an attempt to distract herself from the pain, she took account of herself and the horse.  Already the animal was trying to gain its feet.
Pulling herself out of the saddle, she stood to her feet to further inspect her wound.  Gingerly, she brushed as much dirt and debris from it as she could.  The young woman silently thanked her idiot brothers for putting her good, fully stocked trail saddle on the stallion.  Brushing her auburn bangs from her face, she pulled her hat down a little tighter over her head.  She didn't stop to wonder how on earth the hat had stayed on during the ride, simply accepting the fact as she did so much else.

The bronc buster looked around, searching for the group of tiny men.  She couldn't find them right off hand, so, with a shrug, she grabbed the reigns of the struggling animal.

"Alright you asshole of a horse, you're going to listen to me."  As she spoke, she dug through the exposed saddle bag, searching for her lead line.  Finding it quickly, she pulled it from the bag and snapped it to the horse's bridle, unclipping the split-reigns.  She took the reigns and hooked them together, creating a makeshift whip that was more noise than anything else.

Tor dropped the "whip" behind her and hauled the horse's head up, helping the animal on its next attempt to rise.  At first, the stallion tried to bolt, but the young woman was too close to his head for him to go anywhere.  Slowly easing him back towards her, she spoke softly, keeping her hand extended. 

"Easy, boy, easy.  I'm not gonna hurt you."  The stallion perked his ears forward and took a step towards her.  Chomping at the bit in his mouth, his ears flickered back and forth, showing his uncertainty about this girl.  His sides heaved, his nostrils flared and his body was coated in a light sheen of sweat.  He took another step, followed by a third until his muzzle touched the tip of Tor's outstretched hand.  "That's a good boy," she cooed.  Slowly, she stretched her hand a bit farther in an attempt to stroke his nose.

The mustang shied, throwing his head up in the air and snorting.  Tor pulled his head back down slowly, reaching out to stroke him again. This time she succeeded and gently ran her hand up and down his muzzle.  "See there?" the blue-eyed young woman smiled.  "No one's going to hurt you, Idiot."  A silly grin settled on her face.  "There's a fine name for a fine horse.  Idiots are who put me on you, an idiot is what you're acting like so 'Idiot' you shall be named."

She ran her hand down his neck and slowly stepped to the saddle bag that had been crushed beneath the stallion.  From it, she drew the bandage supplies for her leg.  She led the now semi-complacent horse to a tall tree and tied him to a thick branch before picking up the reins and throwing them over her shoulder.  Afterward, she inspected the saddle, elated to find no broken or damaged pieces and the only damage to the goods in her saddle bags was that her trail mix was now just a bag of crumbs.

Stepping back, the young woman wondered what to do with the stallion.


A/N:  Okay, so not much interaction between are two heroes.  That will come next chapter.  And I know this is short but it’s late and I don’t really care. lol.  It’ll get longer as the story progresses. ;)



Updated on May 7, 2009.  Checked for word flow, spelling, grammar and factuality.

Chapter 2 by Right Wing Attack Dog

Okay, so I’m much more alert this time. So the chapter will be longer, I promise. Plus, our heroes will actually meet this time! lol.


A Charmed Life




Right Wing Attack Dog


Previously in A Charmed Life…


The mustang shied, throwing his head up in the air and snorting.  Tor pulled his head back down slowly, reaching out to stroke him again. This time she succeeded and gently ran her hand up and down his muzzle.  "See there?" the blue-eyed young woman smiled.  "No one's going to hurt you, Idiot."  A silly grin settled on her face.  "There's a fine name for a fine horse.  Idiots are who put me on you, an idiot is what you're acting like so 'Idiot' you shall be named."


She ran her hand down his neck and slowly stepped to the saddle bag that had been crushed beneath the stallion.  From it, she drew the bandage supplies for her leg.  She led the now semi-complacent horse to a tall tree and tied him to a thick branch before picking up the reins and throwing them over her shoulder.  Afterward, she inspected the saddle, elated to find no broken or damaged pieces and the only damage to the goods in her saddle bags was that her trail mix was now just a bag of crumbs.


Stepping back, the young woman wondered what to do with the stallion. 




“Well, whatever I do, I need to do it after I clean out my leg,” she hissed through clenched teeth. All she had to do was flex the muscle, even slightly, and it burned like hell. Tor knelt on the ground, her injured leg spread out to where she had easy access to the scrape. Already, she had brushed out much of the debris but it was still dirty and bleeding pretty badly.


With a muttered curse, she realized that she had forgotten the cloth to clean out the wound with. Getting back to her feet, which caused her to bite her lip in pain, she searched the saddle bags only to find that, for whatever reason, her usual cloth was missing. Belatedly realizing she had cleaned a wound on one of her mares with it and hadn’t replaced it, she swore again, this time loudly. She stood for a moment, thinking on what she could use to clean her leg.


A light breeze blew through the air, picking up the little bit of extra fabric in her shirt. As the cool draft brushed across her slightly sweaty skin, chilling it, an idea struck her. She frowned, though. This was her favorite t-shirt…but, if she did nothing, her leg could get infected and possibly paralyze her. The thought of not being able to ride again was more than enough incentive for Tor to grab hold of her shirt and rip it. The inventive young woman tore the shirt all the way around and up to just beneath her bust. Only a few inches of fabric remained below the swell of her chest. Luckily, the shirt was tight fitting and didn’t let too much of anything show.


Who cares anyway? she thought as she continued to tear the scraps of the shirt. I’m the only one here; the nearest outpost is another eighty miles from camp. And camp is a good distance away from here, probably a normal day’s ride. It took us two days to catch this stallion and that was without our herd. Little sucker is fast.




Eric was in hog heaven, or pervert heaven. It all depended on who you asked. He had followed the young woman—it really hadn’t been that hard, she hadn’t gone far—to the clearing where she now resided. Originally, his mission was to thank her for delivering from the clutches of his father’s men, whether she had done it on purpose or not, and leave quickly. After all, he knew the reputation the giants had for eating his people. But, just as he was about to come out of the scrub, she had sat down for the first time, extending her leg and, unwittingly, giving the little perv in the bush a clear view up her short shorts. So he had remained, hoping to see if she did anything else to his delight.


He almost sighed in disappointment when she stood once more and hobbled to her saddlebags. His eyebrows rose in surprise at her loud oath. Apparently, she was unhappy about something. His eyes nearly left their sockets when she began to tear her shirt. Holy Mother… he thought in amazement. He couldn’t believe she was doing that! As the young giantess continued to tear her shirt, the little man was treated to several flashes of her breasts. The boy felt a tightening in his pants.  A moment of not-swallow and breathing later, he choked on his own saliva. He coughed and wheezed. After not having swallowed, his throat was dry and because he had been breathing the little bit that had gone down his esophagus burned like hell and the rest went down his windpipe.


The boy nearly had a heart attack when the giantess’s head whipped around to his direction; he about pissed his pants when she scowled and began to crawl towards him.  Suddenly, she stopped just before the brush line.


"Alright," she called, "come on out.  I see you.  There's no use hiding from me."  Her scowl deepened before she sighed, relaxing her face.  "Look, if you come out now, I'll take it easy on you."


Eric sighed, he really didn't have much other choice did he?  After all, she could have just as easily reached in a squashed him, scooped him up or any of the other things giants do.  So, slowly, reluctantly, he came out of the scrub, hands held up in surrender.


Tor watched the little man slowly come out of the woods.  When he was fully in daylight, she blinked in shock before sitting back on her knees, hissing through her clenched teeth as she did so.  "Interesting," she mused quietly.  "You're hardly more than a snack.  What where you doing in the bushes?  And don't bother lying 'cause I'll be able to tell."  The young woman grinned internally as she watched him fidget.


Finally, Eric worked up the nerve to speak to this imposing giantess.  Gulping, he opened his mouth to speak.  "My lady, please forgive my intrusion of your privacy.  I came to thank you for saving me; when you began tearing shirt it got me distracted."


The young woman smirked at her inadvertent admirer.  "Oh?  Is that so?  So that's what that tiny bulge in your pants testifies to?  Your 'distraction'?"  She bit her lip, trying to bite back the blush that threatened to overwhelm her face.  Since when was she so forward?!  Mick would've killed her for speaking so boldly.  However, she was quite pleased with the blood red blush on the young man's face.  Studying him closer, she came to a stunning conclusion.  "Why you're no more than a boy!" she exclaimed, surprise evident in her tone.


At this, Eric's blush turned from embarrassment to anger.  "I am no boy," he bit out.  "I am a man."


Tor cocked an eyebrow at this.  "Really?" she drawled.  "And why should I believe you?"


The young human drew himself up at this.  "I can ride, shoot and hunt as well as any man.  I have bested many of the best knights at jousting and swordplay and ridden many wild horse into obedience.  Again, Lady, I am no boy."


Still smirking, the young woman stretched out on her stomach, bringing her massive face closer to his tiny one.  "So you think that just because you can shoot, ride and play with your little sword that you're a man?"


Smarting from the insult to his manhood, Eric drew himself even straighter.  With a taught, haughty tone, he replied, "Lady, I do not think, I know."


Suddenly, he found his world dark as he was rushed into the air.  Then, it was light and he was standing in the center of the young woman's palm.  He staggered for a moment, trying to regain his balance as she sat back up on her knees, the flinch on her face obvious.  "So we have a smart mouth, do we?  Well then, let's just see if we can cure it."  That said, she grabbed him by the back of his cloak and lifted him even higher.  Tilting her head back, she opened her massive jaws and slowly began to lower him towards her gaping maw.  Three...two...one.  Right on cue, the little man in her fingers began to kick, scream and plead for his life.


"Please, My Lady, please do not eat me!  I beg of you!"


A draft of hot air blew past him as she moved her lips to speak.  "Oh?  Why, dear sir, why should I let you go?  You could become such a tasty little morsel."


He squirmed in his cloak, his hands grasping the hood to keep from choking as he thought.  Miraculously, an idea formed in his oxygen-deprived mind.  "Because I would not even be a meal for you!  Hardly more than a snack!  And... if you ate me, it would only trigger your desire for more and then you would be mad at yourself for eating me!" he cried fervently, hoping to God above that she would listen. 


Tor paused for a moment, thinking.  What the little man had said was true and she was impressed by his quick thinking in the face of imminent death.  She pulled him back from her face, looking at him intently.  After seeing him struggle to keep the cloak from choking him, she leaned her hand back, allowing him a level place to stand.  Releasing his cloak, the young woman watched as he fell to his knees, gasping for the air his starved lungs craved.  He was on his hand and knees, his head down as he breathed heavily.  The young giantess felt no guilt for the man in her hand; after all, she had eaten enough humans to stop feeling the emotion.


Eric thought over the young woman's actions for a moment.  They confused him.  "Your actions...are contra...dictory," he wheezed out.


Tor tilted her head to the side, intrigued by what he said.  "How so?"  Her blue eyes showed her curiosity to her would-be snack.


After finally getting his breathing back in order, he sat back in the palm of her hand, looking up at her.  "Well, when I first saw you, you where atop that stallion over there and headed straight for me.  When you spotted us, you yelled for us to 'move it'.  And, when they didn't, you pulled on the horse's reins and threw him off balance in order to prevent their deaths.  Yet, now, you act as if you would eat me for simply seeing you rip your shirt up."  He felt her body shake beneath him as her eyes sparkled and she bit her lip in an effort to contain her laughter.  "What?" he demanded.  "What is so funny?"


Finally able to suppress it no longer, she let out a sarcastic laugh.  "Oh you poor, confused boy," she said in between her mirth.  Eric stiffened at the word "boy" but held his tongue.  "I did not spare your lives out of mercy.  If Idiot had stomped on you, one of your tiny bodies may have become lodged in his hoof or frog and that could have seriously injured him."

"So you spared our lives for the horse's sake?" he asked, trying to clarify his thoughts.  At her nod, he lay back in her hand, thinking it over.  After a minute, he spoke up again.  "I still believe you have mercy in your heart, though, for, if not, you would not have spared my life.  Whether or not you did it to satisfy your own urges is beyond the point.  You simply could have dropped me, stomped on me or some other source of ending my life.  Yet, you chose to set me back in your hand and not harm me."

Tor smirked, flipping her occupied hand to where she now held the man between her thumb and forefinger.  Slowly, she brought him up to her lips, placing him right in front of them before speaking in a low whisper.  "Oh?  Is that so?  Well then, I guess my little charade is over." She pressed him close to her lips and held him there for a moment before pulling away and setting him back in her palm.  "In truth, it has been some time since I have eaten a human.  Though I am quite accustomed to it.  You see, I used to eat them very frequently until I befriended a young human girl named Kar.  After that," she shrugged, as if unsure what to say, "I haven't had the urge to eat one."  The young woman stopped for a moment, looking off into the distance, looking like she was reliving a sad memory.

Eric could tell this was a sensitive topic for her so he didn't press to find out what happened to the girl, despite his nagging curiosity.  Instead, he just lay in her palm, basking in the soothing heat of the sun and drowsing slightly.  Suddenly, though, his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a faint shout.  Crawling over to the edge of her palm, he looked down to see the group of his father's hired men staring back at him.  Crap! he thought as he flung himself back into her hand.  How did they find me?

For her part, Tor watched the proceedings with slight interest.  "What's wrong?" she asked.  "Don't you want to be reunited with your friends?"  As she said this, she began to lower her hand to the ground.

"No!  I do not wished to be reunited with them!  They will take me back to my father and he will either chain me up or force me to marry this idiot girl of his choosing.  But only after he has me flogged for my 'disobedience'!" he sneered.  He paled and began to shake as her hand came closer to the ground. 

"I don’t see why I should care," she replied.

Frantically thinking of something to do, he cast about in his mind for another idea.  "I promise to pay you well!" he blurted out.

Tor's hand stopped in mid-descent.  "Why would I need your money?  I'm a wealthy girl in my own right."

"Then I promise to remain with you until the end of my days!  I will be yours to do with as you please, so long as you do not unduly torture me or kill me."  He begged for her mercy once more, hoping that she would accede to his plea. 

"You wouldn't mind being the pet of a giantess until the day you die?" she asked, true confusion coloring her voice.  This was a new one on her.  "You wouldn't mind the lack of humans or human customs.  You would give it all up simply so I would not hand you over to that mob?  You wouldn't care that your life would be in constant threat, be it from myself or others?"

"I trust you, My Lady.  I trust that if I were to give my freedom to you, that you would not abuse it," Eric said, completely serious.  He crossed his fingers behind his back and sent a quick prayer to his Creator.

After a moment of studying the little human in her hand, Tor shrugged her shoulders.  "So be it, then.  I will take you on as a pet.  And," she sighed, "since it seems that my new pet is being threatened and scared, I should probably deal with the problem shouldn’t I?"

The young man smiled brilliantly in relief.  Giving a low bow to his new "owner," he spoke in a grateful voice.  "My Lady, you are truly a good person."

The giantess looked away, fighting the blush that crept up her neck.  After a moment, she looked back at her new pet.  "Lay down and be still.  Do not move whatever you do.  No matter what you hear or feel.  Do. Not. Move.  Do you understand?"

"I understand, My Lady."  Eric bowed once more before doing as told.

"And cut it with the 'My Lady' crap.  You're making me feel old.  My name is Tor," she said as she began to close her hand over him.

"Am I understanding that you wish for me to call you by your given name even though I am your 'pet'?" he asked, seriously confused.

"I'm not much of one for formalities.  As long as it's not an insulting term, I don't really care what you call me.  Now, be still and be quiet."

"Yes, My--Tor," the young man corrected himself in mid-sentence.  He watched in awe as her hand finished closing over him.  He was now securely pinned against her palm, although not uncomfortably so.

Tor, after closing her hand to protect her charge, dropped back to lie on her stomach.  She smirked as she watched the men scatter in fear of her before slowly regrouping.  Humans, she thought with a roll of her eyes.  They're so much like sheep.  Dumb, dimwitted, flighty and panicy.  Not to mention very easily deceived.  "Now then," she said as she looked upon the three men.  "What business do you have with my friend?"

The three men looked between each other, each hoping another would speak.  Finally, the man with salt and pepper grey hair stepped forward.  He took his hat off his head in a gesture of respect.  After all, his quarrel was not with the giantess.  Not unless she chose to stand in his way, that is.  "My Lady, we do not seek a fight with you.  We simply wish to return the young man in your hand to his father.  You see, his father has a lot of respect in our world and would gain even more if his son were to wed a certain young woman.  However, the boy blatantly refuses to do so.  He has even run away.  We were hired by his old man to track him down and return him."  The grey haired man waited for a moment, judging the girl's reaction.

"And what if I refuse to hand him over?" she asked distractedly, looking at her fisted hand as she felt some movement in it.  Idly, she squeezed slightly, just enough to remind the boy within of his orders.  Instantly, he fell still.

"Then we will have no choice but to take him by force," the man said, twisting his hat in his hands.  He and the others quickly became terrified at the scowl that formed on the giantess's beautiful face.

"Oh really?  Well then, I'll deal with you 'with force'."  With that, she rocked back to rest on her his, drawing in a huge breath of air before leaning down to place her body flush with the ground.  She released the air in a maelstrom of gusting winds and spittle, sending the offending group flying back into the woods, as well as uprooting a few of the human trees.

Sitting back up, she opened her hand, allowing its occupant to look around.  "Is it safe?" he asked, still a bit unsure.

"I would not have opened my hand if it weren't," Tor replied, a bit miffed at his lack of trust.

"Forgive me, Tor.  I simply do not know you very well yet.  Trust will come as I get to know you better," Eric apologized with a bow.

"Whatever," she snorted.  "So, you do realize that your life is completely mine, right?" the auburn haired giantess asked, deciding to remind him of their deal.

"How could I forget?  My life is in your hands; I just ask that it not end up in your stomach," he said with a slight smirk.  Adjusting his cloak around his shoulders, he waited for her reaction.

Tor smirked at the little man in her hand.  Grinning so that she showed off her teeth, she asked in a too-innocent tone of voice, "Now why would I go and do a thing like that?"

Eric eyed the young woman warily.  "I probably shouldn't respond to that comment, should I?"

The giantess smirked again.  "You are a swift learner, little man."  She stood to her full height, the young man still in her hand.  "Now then, let's get going.  I need to find my brothers before they move camp."


Ugh.. so I started this chapter off at around noon several days ago and just finished it at 1:30 in the morning...  Count yourselves lucky, folks.  Otherwise it may have been several more days before I was able to update.  So please, read, review and rate!


Updated on May 27, 2009.  Checked for grammar, spelling, punctuation, diction, syntax, word flow, factuality and characterization.

Chapter 3 by Right Wing Attack Dog

Started off at one in the morning, just like normal. lol. Okay, this chapter is mainly the back-story of my story. Basically, it’s the “history” of my “world.” Lol




A Charmed Life


Right Wing Attack Dog

Previously in A Charmed Life…


Tor smirked at the little man in her hand. Grinning so that she showed off her teeth, she asked in a too-innocent tone of voice, "Now why would I go and do a thing like that?"

Eric eyed the young woman warily. "I probably shouldn't respond to that comment, should I?"

The giantess smirked again. "You are a swift learner, little man." She stood to her full height, the young man still in her hand. "Now then, let's get going. I need to find my brothers before they move camp."




Tor sighed, sitting cross-legged in front of the fire she had made.  Her leg was bandaged and clean but it still was sore and stiff.  The little human that had become her “pet” was sitting next to her, finishing off a bit of the trail mix crumbs she had given him.  At first he had refused and started to argue, but, one look from her quickly shut him up.  Now, he was mulishly chewing on the crumbs on the pretzel stuff it looked like. 


Her blue eyes darted to the mustang that was still tied to the tree.  Her lips pursed in thought.  If she took the tack off the animal now, it was very unlikely that she would be able to get it back on.  So… that would mean she would just have to fight the animal to get it to respond to her again.  At least… until she got to Maude’s.  Maude had a round pen and some things she could use to work with the animal.  The most important thing he needed was manners.  That meant teaching him to lunge, respond to the bi—


“Hey, Tor!  Yoo-hoo, air-head!”   Blessed silence reigned.  “Tor!”  And then it was broken.


With a growl, she turned to look down at the tiny human that was yanking on her shorts.  “What?!” she snapped.  God, he was annoying.  Why did she take him on again?


Eric cowed for a minute before straightening his back and lifting his chin.  “Where do Giants come from?”


Oh yeah, because he was stupid.  She blinked at that question.  “What on earth is that supposed to mean?  Where do Humans come from?  And the correct term is Elders.  If you call somebody a giant, you’re liable to be squished before you can say ‘southern fried chicken’.”  Mmm… Chicken.


Eric blinked, his brows screwing up in this rather cute, for a pet that is, way.  “What do you mean where do humans come from?  God made them.  That’s a stupid question.”


Her lips twitched to the right in annoyance.  She was beginning to think “stupid” was an understatement.  “Yah, and God made Elders before he made humans.  Humans are just a miniature copy of us.”  She closed her mouth, thinking that particular conversation at an end, as her mind once more drifted to just how on Earth she was going to get back on Idiot.  Maybe the old rock in the ear?  That might work…


Eric frowned as she once more slipped into thought.  Yanking once more on her shorts, he called up to her.  “Where did you get your information from?  Giants are just lumbering copies of humans.  Not the other way around.”  He yelped and backed up until his back hit the heel of her boots when her fingers came down in the “flicking” pose.  The foolish boy gulped as the middle joint on her middle finger lay flush with his body.  His green eyes darted up to her stormy blue ones.  I am sooo screwed, he thought.


“You had better learn to hold your tongue when in the presence of those who could kill you in less than a heartbeat,” she hissed through clenched teeth.  “Don’t you ever, ever call my people ‘lumbering.’  We are older than your race, though probably not by much.  We have kept records of our lives, and yours, from almost day one.  And let me tell you something, human, your people didn’t even think of creating civilizations, governments or any inventions until my people either showed you or you found out our secrets.”  She was sickly pleased with the absolute fear she could see in his eyes.  Still, it wasn’t enough for him to be scared shitless, she was, after all, being nice about what he had called her.  Her brothers would have killed him before he could open his mouth to apologize.


“You, you little snot, don’t know jack squat.  Your history is so messed up due to the immense pride your race has, you don’t know fact from fiction.  So, let me tell you so you can be one of the educated few among the human race.  Elders created fire.  One sweet Elder girl found a half frozen human male and brought him to the cave where she was staying.  Leila, her name was, put him by her fire and warmed him up, saving his life.  When he was coherent and better, he stuck around until he learned to create fire.  Then, he took it back to his little camp and showed his family and friends and who knows what.  They took the story and said he stole the ember from an Elder’s fire and brought it back.  That is how you were taught humans created fire, wasn’t it?” 


The young man nodded slowly, afraid any sudden movements would goad her into flicking the daylights out of him.  “So,” he spoke quietly, “my whole history is a lie?”  Well, this was certainly news to him.


Tor pulled back her hand, relaxing her fingers.  “No,” she said after a moment, her blue eyes calculating, “not entirely.  The underlying message—that your life was based upon that of the Elders’—is true.  You young ones,” Eric scowled at the depreciating nickname given to his race by the Elders, “are so… so… boastful, so prideful, that everything has to be done your way or it’s wrong.  Even the history of our peoples!  You humans came first.  You are the originals, not the copies.  At least, that’s what you want everyone to believe.”


The princeling gulped.  “That gian—err.. Elder—did attack our camps, did it?”


Tor’s face grew thunderous.  “No,” she bit out, “my great-grandfather did not attack your camps.  You humans stormed our lands and he was chosen to go as an envoy of peace.  He was wearing white and carrying the flag of truce.  You little pipsqueaks outnumbered us because you didn’t care how many brats you made or how damaged your lands were becoming.  You just wanted bigger of everything because we were bigger.  So, you took your massive armies, tied his legs together, toppled him and slew him before a single Elder could reach for their lance.   My family still grieves for his loss.  My grandmother never knew her father and my great-uncle never had a real male role model to look up to.  To his dying day, he was filled with bitterness over his father’s death.  He was the one who taught my father, who taught his sons, to hate humans.”


“The one Elder’s anger roused an entire community to fight?” whispered the pale looking boy.  “Your people…they marched to our armies and … all but decimated us.  Of those who weren’t killed straight away… worse fates were in store for them.  Eating them alive… chewing, boiling, baking them alive… Gnawing off joint by joint, toe by toe, finger by finger.  Then crushing their windpipe just enough to where they suffocated in the sheer terror of your stomachs… Using the men as … as … playthings.  The five who escaped where the damndest, luckiest of them all.”


“My people are peaceful.  But our anger is fierce when roused.”  The young woman’s searing blue gaze bored into the tiny human by her leg.


Silence pervaded the camp for the majority of that evening.  When Tor stretched out on the rain slicker she had pulled from her saddle bags, Eric curled up in the joint of her knee.  As the night wore on, he was constantly awoken by the hoots of an owl, the scurrying of the mice and the general night noises that now seemed so much larger and more threatening than before.


For the next few thousand years, the vicious war raged between the two races.  Many casualties on both sides were created and no one was spared.  The Elders suffered heavier losses, though, simply for their lack in numbers.


Around a thousand years ago, a tense truce was created.  Leaders from both civilizations came forward and searched for an end to the bloodshed.  For years, the debates over land rights, boundaries and food dragged on.  There were times when everyone considered forgetting their ideals of peace and simply attacking and fighting for what they want.  However, they were quickly dissuaded when brought before the evidence of the failings in that plan.  Eventually, a truce of sorts was reached. The continent was divided in half. The Eastern half would belong to the Elders while the Western territories would go to the humans. This assuaged parties on both sides and boundary lines were agreed upon. As time passed, this agreement became less and less agreeable for the Elders who began to expand their race. With the advent of technology and the uprising of the younger generations, ideals of communing with nature were slowly forgotten.

Families began to grow bigger and land began to become more and more sparse. A mere few hundred years after the treaty was signed, a new one was needed to compensate for the Elders' nearly explosive growth rate. After some months of discussion, it was agreed that the Elders could begin to settle uninhabited parts of the Western continent on the agreement that their vehicles were left behind.

The taller of the two races readily agreed to this compromise. They needed more land and the needed it
now. So they couldn't bring their vehicles? No one had said anything about horses or other livestock. Thus, the resettling of the West commenced


There is a bit of a hole in the story, cyber cookies to the one who finds it, but I know it's there and I have my reasons for leaving it there ... for now.


Questions? Comments? Concerns?  Leave them in a review. ;)


For drawings of Tor and Eric, you can visit http://coalwhite.deviantart.com

Chapter 4 by Right Wing Attack Dog

So, I know it’s been a while and you have my apologies.  I’ve been real busy but today was too stressful for me not to sit down and write.  And now, I gift to you the third (or fourth, depending on how you saw the last chapter) installment of “A Charmed Life.”


Warning: I am not completely lucid right now. xD I’ve got a summer cold and am on medication for it.  There is no telling what this chapter will hold.



A Charmed Life
Right Wing Attack Dog


Previously in “A Charmed Life”:


“My people are peaceful.  But our anger is fierce when roused.”  The young woman’s searing blue gaze bored into the tiny human by her leg.


Silence pervaded the camp for the majority of that evening.  When Tor stretched out on the rain slicker she had pulled from her saddle bags, Eric curled up in the joint of her knee.  As the night wore on, he was constantly awoken by the hoots of an owl, the scurrying of the mice and the general night noises that now seemed so much larger and more threatening than before.




The morning dawned bright and early, far too early for the young prince that was curled into a small ball on an empty rain slicker.  Sitting up quickly, Eric searched frantically for his new “mistress”.  Surely she wouldn’t leave her slicker behind… So, that means she’d have to be around here somewhere… His green eyes darted from place to place in search of the young woman.  So, with a rather girly scream, he stumbled several feet back when the carcass of a doe was dropped in front of him.


Tor snorted, a smirk betraying her laughter at the boy’s behavior.  “So brave and strong you are, screaming at a dead deer.”  She turned and made her way back to the horse that, now rested, was doing his best to free himself from the bridle that tethered him to the tree.  “That’s your meal for the next few days.  Make it last because I won’t be bringing you another.”  Her voice softened as she spoke in low, calming tones towards the nervous animal.  Slowly, she brought her hands to his head, double checking the bridle before sliding them along his body to tighten the girth. With a yelp, she jumped back to avoid a cow-kick aimed in her direction.  “Okay, that wasn’t nice.  Now behave.”


He blinked as he watched her work with the over-sized horse.  She acted like it had feelings that deserved to be respected.  He took out his pocket knife and began to dress the deer, carefully separating the hide from the bones and muscle.  The prince was quick and sure, confident in himself.  Still, he highly doubted Tor had been teasing when she said that the deer was the only one he’d receive from her.  So, his strokes were careful, precise and thought out.  He couldn’t afford to go hungry.  Gathering bits of tinder and breaking off a piece of a still warm coal from her pit, he dug a shallow hole for his own fire and began to cook the meat.  His mouth watered at the smell and he was tempted to eat everything he could, damn the consequences.  But, common sense prevailed in his brain and he only ate enough to be moderately full.


The young woman smirked a bit, proud that her most expensive tack had held up during the brutal onslaught of yesterday’s ride and the night’s dew.  She adjusted the breast collar on the horse, tightening up just a bit from where it had loosened during Idiot’s bucking rampage.  Her voice was calm and slow as she moved towards his back end again to double check the back girth.  Finding everything in order, she began to scour the ground for a small stone just big enough to fit in the horse’s ear but not so small to where it would fall inside and damage his hearing.  Her calm blue eyes finally landed on one that looked like it would work.  Picking it up, she weighed it in her hand before eyeing its size and the size of the horse’s ear.


Eric was savoring the final bite of his breakfast when Tor’s voice rang out above his head.  He cringed a bit at the volume and sighed when she adjusted it without apology.


“Get all your things together and give them to me.  They’ll go in the saddle bags with the rest of my stuff,” she commanded as she shook out her slicker and began to fold it up.  “When you’re through, I’ll put you somewhere that you won’t get stomped on.  I have to ride the bucks out of him and you won’t want to be on the ground for that.”  Turning her back on him, she walked calmly to the horse and stuffed the slicker into the left bag.  When she had made sure both bags were secure, giving Idiot’s back end a wide berth, and Eric’s stuff was within easy reach, she crossed back to her pet and scooped him up without a word of warning.


The green eyed young man gasped when he felt her fingers wrap around his waist and hoist him into the air.  Clutching to her for dear life, he screwed his eyes closed and did his best to control his fast breathing.  When the rough bark of a tree branch met his legs, he immediately let go of her only to wrap his arms and legs around the limb.  Daring to open an eye, he paled and quickly closed it when he saw just how high up he was.  To Tor, he knew, it couldn’t have been more than about knee height.  For him, it was quite a bit farther, roughly twenty six feet.  He gulped, the knowledge that any fall over three times your height was considered dangerous floating through his mind. 


“Dammit,” he whispered, “why does my mind have to think of all this stuff that will only scare me more?!”


Once her human was secure, enough anyway, on the branch, she pulled the stone from her pocket and walked back towards the horse.  Keeping a firm grip on the reins just below the bit, in order to make him think he was still tied, she undid the reins from the tree and slipped them over his head.  Immediately, the stallion threw his head in the air, trying to rear and move away from the human.  Tor cursed, pulling his head back down and slipping the rock into his ear.  Grabbing a hunk of mane and the reins in one hand while he was distracted, she hauled herself into the saddle and put her other foot in the stirrup just in time for the horse to throw his head down and back legs into the air.


She cursed again, clamping her legs to his side in an effort not to get thrown.  One fisted hand went into the air to act as a counter balance to the swinging rhythm her body was put through as the powerful animal beneath her crow hopped, bucked and spun in the hopes of unseating his rider.  He squealed in fury, rearing up onto his hind legs as he once more tried to throw the human on his back.  Coming back onto all fours, he began to race in one direction, only to stop in mid-step, feigning a spook and twisting in a 180 before ducking his head and bucking, dirt and grass flying in everywhere.


Tor clamped her teeth together in an effort not to scream.  She leaned into him at the rear only to be jolted backwards as he hit the ground running.  The spin and spook made her dizzy and caused her to slip to one side.  Quickly righting herself, she gathered the reins in tighter and kicked the animal in the sides for all she was worth.  She wasn’t surprised in the least when he jumped forward and away from the pressure on his sides.  The young woman let him run for a few minutes until she hauled his head in the direction they had come.  Grudgingly, the stallion obeyed and bolted down the long, flat prairie, doing his best to outrun the weight on his back.


The redhead could feel the way his ribs expanded with each breath, could feel how he was beginning to tire as the sun warmed the earth and heated his black coat.  Sweat poured from them both as she turned his head towards her left leg, making him turn in circle after circle as well.  Finally, he stopped, his breathing heavy and tired as his entire body quivered, exhausted.  She loosened the reins, giving him some freedom, and was pleased when he simply stood there, making no move to bolt in another direction.  Straightening his head, she gave a soft kiss and squeezed his side. A smile of victory spread on her face as Idiot began to trudge straight ahead.


“Good boy,” she murmured softly, one hand patting his neck.  “Yes, you did very good.”  He sighed heavily and licked and chewed at the bit as his head went down and his feet slowly carried them ahead.  She sighed as well, relaxing in the saddle as her eyes scanned for the tree where she had placed the boy.  One eyebrow arched up as she saw his limp, prone form on the ground.  “Interesting.  I guess he wasn’t strong enough to hold on.”  She rolled her shoulders, uncaring if he had lived or died.  The blue eyed girl blinked, a bit shocked and awed when a loan moan escaped her pet’s lips as he struggled to lift himself onto his hands and knees.


Eric grabbed his throbbing head, settling onto his backside as he cradled it between his knees.  His stomach turned violently, threatening to empty its recently downed contents.  The ride in the tree had been perfectly fine, until the stallion had reared and come down hard.  The resulting shockwave had shaken the tree so badly he was thrown from his branch and onto the cold ground below.  As fate would have it, he didn’t land on his head or neck, which would have been instant death.  Instead, he landed on his feet and was rolled to his stomach by gravity, his hands coming up to break his fall and protect his face.  When his head connected with the ground, he was knocked unconscious.  Blackness consumed him and he thought he was going to die, or that he was dead and was headed for the afterlife.  So, it came as a surprise when light returned to his lidded eyes and woke him up.


He groaned in pain and shock, his legs felt as if they had been stomped on or hammered with mallets.  His head ached and pulsed, and he bit back another groan as his fingers gently traced his skull.  A gasp, mixed with pain and fear, tore from his lips when he felt Tor’s fingers wrap around his waist once more, lifting him to in front of her face.  Eric felt, more than saw, her blue eyes roam and inspect his body.  He choked on a gasp when her finger ran down one of his legs.


“Well,” her voice, calm and smooth, reached his ears, “your legs aren’t broken.  At least, not badly.  There are probably some fractures in there but there’s nothing I can do for that.  But, you’ve got two options.  One, I can end your misery now and bury your body somewhere.”  She stopped, letting the words sink in.


“… Or?” he croaked, his voice raspy and pain filled.


“Or, I can let you live, take care of you the best I can.  I can’t set your legs; they’re much too small for me to handle without making it worse.  So,” she looked down at him, her blue eyes serious and lacking any humor whatsoever, “what’ll it be?  Death or a life possibly filled with the pain of your legs and the shame of being lame and useless?”


“Life,” Eric spoke, his voice slowly returning to normal.  “I want to live.”


She shrugged, grabbed a fistful of mane and the reins and swung herself back into the saddle with him in her other hand.  “As you wish.”  She passed her calm, flat gaze over the saddle, looking for a place to stash the human in her hand.  She still didn’t entirely trust Idiot, at least, not enough to ride with only one hand on the reins.  Horses were much like cars, you had to keep both hands on the reins unless you were experienced enough to handle it with just one.  Her blue eyes fell on the small opening just behind the pommel of the saddle and just before the seat itself.  Adjusting the boy, she slid him feet first into the hole, resting his back against the swell.  Bringing her hand back up, she evened out the reins and squeezed the stallion’s side, giving a soft kiss to urge him forward.


Idiot sighed and put his ears back but went forward when asked.  He was too tired now to put up any resistance, but he was far from finished.


Eric turned a dark shade of red when he opened his eyes again only to find Tor’s denim clad crotch in his direct line of sight.  Looking up provided him with the view of the shadowed underside of her breasts.  Closing his eyes, he determined not to look and not to think about his new position.  He welcomed the darkness of sleep as the smell of animal sweat, leather and the gentle motion of the horse’s walk lured him towards unconsciousness.




A/N: Again, my apologies for the late chapter.  I’ll try, keyword try, to update once a month.  I’ve just been real busy and today was terrible but writing has helped soothe my soul, just like always.  Truthfully, this thing is so far planned out in my head that I’m almost through with it.  I just have a few decisions to make before it’s “complete.”  After that, I’ll probably update a bit sooner.  Who knows, though?  I’m not promising anything.

This story archived at http://www.giantessworld.net/viewstory.php?sid=1024