0 comments/ 36922 views/ 23 favorites The Taming of Titania By: Kingmaker711 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is unlike my usual fare, in that there is no corruption of innocence or turns to evil, but there is a transformation of sorts towards the end. Also, this story does not take place in the more light/self-aware universe of the Morgana stories. To make that difference more prominent, the faeries here are a mishmash of the Celtic/Germanic types that occupy ancient folklore, and thus more abrasive and cruel, as opposed to the ones in Dark Wood (which is a Morgana story), who are more kind, and Disney like. Enjoy. * Prince Oberon of the Fae, stared into the early dawn sky, peering upon a star maiden. She floated and billowed with the currents of the wind, her body as black as night, her skin illuminated and draped with stars, nearly invisible against the cosmos, but for her impeccable feminine shape. The soft, barely illuminated slopes of her heavy, ample breasts swayed to her flying motions, rising and falling with such incredible slowness it was if she were underwater. She arched her back in front of the waning moon, not only regaling Oberon on his private balcony, but all of the city as well, many of whom had counted the days for when a Daughter of the Gods would grace them with her presence. The bright beams of the moon cast her in silhouette, though her body was a walking shadow to begin with, her dark form outlined with miniature stars and various nebulae. To so flaunt her charms in front of the lustful gaze of so many, prompted a piercing moan of arousal from her delicate throat, ringing out across the sky as bright red and violet light bloomed from within her sex, reaching out across her body like a shockwave of astral light. Stunning fingers of color raced up her body, reaching up her soft, rounded hips, past her writhing belly before curving around the ripe plenty of her breasts. Vivid light poured into her luscious globes, exploding like fireworks of the gods, her shadowy form glowing like a dying star for just a moment, before retreating into darkness. With a slight curtsy and to the cacophony of satisfied hoots and hollers, she took her leave, floating back up into the upper reaches of the sky once more. Oberon sighed as she blended into the stars, wishing nothing more to join them, that he may become one with her. He was a hunter at heart. The wilds called to him, not the velvet excesses of the palace. He had work to do, armor to fasten and swords to sharpen, for today was the most important day of his life. Today, was the day he took a mate, a consort for his kingdom. Upon adulthood, each Fae man had to take a bride, having four years to do so, or else The Huntsmen of The Wild Hunt would come, taking the man for themselves, turning him into a spectre that was neither living or dead, cursed to hunt across the Underworld for all time. It was Oberon's fourth year without a mate. There would not be another. Oberon strapped the rest of his hunting regalia to his body, his blades, quiver and bow. As he marched down the palace's richly furnished hallways, other Fae gave him looks of encouragement, others looks of mourning, for what he hunted was little more than a shadow of a dream. A star maiden, the very one who showed herself an hour before. She was so elusive, so capricious and so quick that failure was all but guaranteed. He pushed their doubting glances away as he came into the throne room. His father, King Merowech, sat on the throne, looking at his valiant son with equal parts pride and sadness. He wished his son would reconsider. There were other women, throwing themselves at his feet to be his bride. But no he said, that would be too easy. He needed a challenge. But if he failed...Merowech shuddered to think. A royal claimed by The Wild Hunt? He would never live it down. "Mother, father." the young prince gave quick nods to his parents, before stepping forward. "On this fair morning, I go to finish the journey I began so long ago: the quest for the immortal and her love." Oberon bowed before the King and Queen, his bright green tunic standing out against the silken red carpet upon which he tread. His hair was dark brown, like the woods he so admired, his face refined and chiseled like a maiden's dream, and he sported the look of a man who was acutely aware of his own talent. King Merowech sighed, supporting his face with his palm. "I...urge you, to reconsider my son. There are many beautiful ladies waiting in the wings who would make wonderful Queens! You risk too much for a father to bear." "And a mother!" chimed in Queen Medb, every bit the regal image of her husband, her large fairy wings shimmering in a vivid array of colors by the torch light. Oberon spared a look at the very women his father had spoke about. Only three of them stood near the balconies overlooking the court, no doubt hoping the prince would change his mind at the last minute. Highly exemplary of Fae allure, one crimson haired beauty wore a rosy dress that complemented her wings, translucent and fair like pink champagne, her round breasts displayed in a plunging neckline, revealing seductive, deep cleavage. He shook his mind of such distractions as he returned back to the moment, hearing his father's voice. "That too. I wish that you were...easier, more pliable to sense and practicality." Oberon scoffed. "Hah! Dear father, were I so I would be no son of yours. Besides, I have not spent my past years wading in cushions and falling in the arms of chamber maids..." "Far from it! We hardly see you these days!" Oberon stood up, straightening his pants and adjusting his tunic. "Indeed. For I have been tracking the fairest prize of all, and once Titania is mine...our kingdom shall have a Queen of the Stars." Merowech breathed deeply. His son was mad. "And you are sure you can...'retrieve' her? How do you know she has not joined with the rest of her kind, among the stars?" "Absolutely. And I know she lingers still among the wood of The Fair Folk because it delights her so. It excites her to arouse the passions of those she would deny, the Fae, the Elves...the Trolls. It is her pride that chains her to this mortal realm...it is her pride that will keep her in this mortal realm." King Merowech relented, clearly his son had a better idea of what he was doing than he did. He looked to his Queen, giving her a sympathetic nod. "Very well. It is with a heavy heart that we give our best wishes. Good luck, my son." Oberon gave an exaggerated bow and flourish of the hands. "Thank you my King and Queen. When I am done, you will both be happys and grandparents by the deed." As he fluttered his cloak behind him and walked towards the castle doors, he saw someone he did not want to see. The High Priestess of the Star Goddess. He suppressed a derisive laugh when she came into view. That so many could elevate a simple star maiden into goddess stature struck him as comedy, further reinforcing his view that the masses were all too easily swayed by pomp and circumstance. Fae, being innately beautiful, starved for something beyond them, to be unattainable, and would no doubt pedestalize a rainbow fish were it rare and vivid enough. She was very attractive by Fae standards, not being burdened by the withering ravages of time such as the race of Men, but still just as mortal, and bound for a final end as anyone else. Like most in her cult, she dressed skimpy, her low cut dress black and studded with stars, in honor of their goddess. She did a glided skip with her wings and delicate feet, her ivory-white globes swaying gently to her graceful movements while her pert ass sat high, her soft cheeks bouncing delectably to her nimble walk, the sleek lines of her buttocks outlined in clinging silk. The High Priestess's face was a mix unbridled rage and sorrow as she pointed a finger at Oberon. "Murderer! You would consort with our Goddess and take her as your own? The very act would make her mortal!" Oberon stopped, if only to take in the bountiful swells of her chest, her dress hanging on only by the grace of her upturned nipples. "So?" "You'll kill her! The moment you embrace her, her life will have an end! Are you so willing to send a Daughter of the Gods back into their heavenly abode?" The young prince laughed. "Ah, let the Gods thank me then, for the girl is fitter for that place than earth!" "You mock me!" The High Priestess moved suddenly, slapping the prince across the face, his smile leaving before her fingers had left his cheek. Oberon had places to go, a maiden to catch, and his good humor had faded. Faster than the eye could see, he backhanded the High Priestess, sending her sprawling down the palace steps before sliding his blade to her neck. "Were you not born so high, I would make a fount of that throat. Do not trouble me." The High Priestess looked on with horror and indignation, that he had the audacity to defend himself. Who did he think he was? "You...you would threaten a priestess of the Star Goddess!?" Oberon sheathed his blade, walking over her body as he went for the doors. "I have seen your "Goddess", your grace, and I assure you, she is little more than a strumpet in goddess's clothing. Ponder not her impending mortality, ponder instead how such a being begat her own cult." And with that, the young prince walked out into the bright morning sun. The High Priestess looked back to the King and Queen in disbelief, hoping the scene would move them to action. King Merowech shrugged his shoulders. He had more pressing issues than an offended priestess. *** Oberon held his hand out, letting a butterfly perch on his outstretched finger as he strode through the high grass, their tall, green blades, slicked with dew, lashing against his hide trousers. He was now thoroughly outside the city limits, and as he came into the grassy clearing, he saw his competition. Other suitors for his fair lady's heart, two men, as young and as eager for her hand as him. One was stocky compared to the other, an actual man of the race of Men. Oberon snorted. So base a being had no business in the matters of a cosmic beauty. The other he regarded wearily. An Elf, and judging by his regalia, a prince too. His light hair and sharp, arrogant face marked him as hailing from Alfheim, and Oberon could not help but notice a little bit of himself in the fellow. The man was the first to speak, though given his youth, he seemed little more than a boy, a thing much said about Elves and Fae alike. "Hail, Prince Oberon of the Fae!" he extended his hand first, his expression displaying an inappropriate amount of friendliness given their competition. "Welcome to the hunt, I am Gebson!" Oberon forced a smile, not wishing to associate, much less touch those who were below him, but reciprocated the gesture anyway, figuring it was good practice for when he had to do it for his own people. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance..." he said, his voice saying the exact opposite, which went right over the man's head, but not the Elf, who snickered at the hidden mock. "Your accent...a man of the steppes?" "Good ear noble prince! Though I was not always so, on my father's side we've got quite the proud history of sea and wetland...pioneering..." his voice trailed off as soon as it became obvious Oberon had lost interest, the prince's gaze now locked on his Elven counterpart. He admired the gregariousness of Men, their open and candid demeanor refreshing in comparison to his pompous and guarded people, but now he had more pressing matters than listening to the idle tales of a fishmonger, such as appraising his royal rival. The Elf prince betrayed nothing, unfazed as Oberon's diaphanous wings fluttered into view, the morning sun shining through their translucence like living stained glass windows, throwing splashes of deep red light mixed with sapphire onto his earth toned garb. They stared at each other, their steely eyes locked, while Oberon's wings had become deadly still, but still fully extended, both looking like bulls about to lock horns. Gebson looked at the two ethereal hunters with worry, uncertain if they were about to murder each other. Some dark part of him secretly hoped they would, making his hunt of the star maiden not necessarily easier, but at least at his own pace. Oberon decided he had had enough tension, there would be plenty enough to go around later in the day. He straightened his posture and folded his wings, but did not extend the royal a hand. "We have not heard your name friend...." The Elf surprised Oberon, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh before extending his hand. "Of course, where are my manners!? I am Torvil, a simple lord in service to the mighty King Alvor!" Oberon shook his hand, scanning for any traces of underhandedness in his face as Torvil did the same. Interesting, he thought. A false humility ploy, something he had seen employed with great success among the lords of Men but seldom Elves. Lords were never 'simple', often by virtue of being lords, an Elven lord doubly so, and no Elf would apologize for a lack of anything, much less manners! Oberon couldn't remember the last time he apologized for anything, and then remembered it was because he was never wrong. Some called him arrogant in the past, but the proud Fae prince simply thought he had a keen sense of self-worth. "I would of thought a lord of Alfheim would have had plenty of eager brides at your beck and call..." Oberon noticed out of the corner of his eye that Gebson had relaxed his tense posture, while Torvil maintained an artificial calm. "Report speaks goldenly of your women." "As it does yours." Gebson piped up, not to be outdone. "Hey what about our women!?" Oberon and Torvil both looked at him blankly, saying nothing before returning to their conversation. "So why the star maiden?" said Oberon, now walking in pace with the Elf, towards the middle of the clearing. "She is as flighty as she is cunning and has led many a noble soul to their death." Torvil stopped, taking in a sharp breath of the crisp morning air. "I could ask you much the same, knowing that this is your final chance for a mate..." Oberon glared at him. He did not like it when others knew of his affairs. Torvil kept his eyes in the sky, waiting for the moment they all were. "But we both know the answer, why we dance with death, why we buckle fortune on our backs for just one chance...for one woman, of infinite fickle and charm." "Because she is beautiful." finished Oberon. Torvil stroked his chin, his fingers in want of beard. "Quite right. 'Tis a curious thing, we higher races hold ourselves above mere Men...but we are more alike than not, we bleed the same, we die the same...whether it be seventy years or seven hundred...but most of all, we love the same, and the very beauty that inspires such love." Oberon decided he liked this fellow. Perhaps they could have been friends in another life, if they weren't competing for the same woman. Shame the world would be bereft of his light by day's end. "Truly, I can't say I would be moved to such feats of valor were we competing for a loud, bloated harlot, whose beggarly looks matched not her haughty spirit." Torvil smiled, his exhalation coming out in a puff of steam in the morning air. "Indeed. Let them be hollow so long as they are fair." "There she is!" shouted Gebson, his muscular arm outstretched as he pointed towards the fading clouds. In the air they looked, the faintest of silhouettes, and in the light they saw her, just as the last star of night faded before daylight. She was nearly invisible, but for the golden fire of the sun, catching itself in her succulent curves. High on her chest sat full, jutting breasts, reflecting yellowish light around their sleek slopes, currents of illumination outlining her wide hips as she floated down from the sky, while a coquettish smirk graced her face, her eyes like bright stars, with no pupils apparent. She touched down in front of the three hunters, giving a slight curtsy before assuming a pose of supreme elegance and femininity, not unlike one that a muse would adopt before an adoring artist. She stepped towards them, dancing with inhuman grace in between her steps, as if walking was just another form of flying. As Oberon was closest, she came up to him first. Her tempting gyrations made his hair stand on ends, his eyes drinking in of the soft, seductive orbs that swayed from her chest, not quite believing the sight of dew drops dripping off her almost invisible skin, the sunlight shining through the drops as easily as it did her. She came up to his ear, her vast, round breasts grazing him by the arm, sending a titillating chill through his body. "Oooh a prince...Prince Oberon!" she moaned, running her gentle hands around his chest before kissing him on the neck. "Long have you chased me...Lord of the Fae...we shall see if the long years have taught you anything or if you are but another, destined to fall to The Wild Hunt..." she said without a hint of sorrow. Oberon bristled at her remarks. No man, much less a woman, could question his prowess unscathed. It was a testament to her loveliness that she remained unchecked, while jealousy burned in his heart as she sauntered over to the other hunters. He looked longingly at her, mesmerized by the twin swells of her round ass cheeks, the daylight outlining their supple curves exquisitely. She danced in front of Gebson, giggling as she bobbed her head in front of his concealed manhood, the imagined gesture having the desired effect of arousing the human while stirring envy in the other two. Gebson felt helpless as her sexual aura numbed his body. She was far more beautiful than he could have imagined. He groaned when she rose up from her mock fellatio, feeling the irresistible softness of her enormous breasts skim against his chest, her hard nipples creating a pleasurable dragging sensation as she finally came up to his face. Her eyes, despite being glowing orbs, still elicited emotions from the young man, his primal instinct to protect and hold a woman all but overpowering his ability to think rationally. "Ahh...you are so brave to have come to me...a Man of the East...to take me as your bride would be a feat for the ages!" Gebson could only sigh in agreement, hearing her chuckle as he was completely taken with the slow, rhythmic heaving of her luscious breasts, watching beads of moisture twist and stream around her sensual flesh. "You are a speck to me, a mayfly to my dragon, competing against my multiple lifetimes of experience...and still you follow...even to your doom..." She put her hands around his head, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. "Good luck my champion." As she dropped her hands away and flitted over to Torvil, Gebson felt like he had just fallen from heaven. Oberon snickered at the dead stare Gebson exhibited. While Men were never taken for The Wild Hunt like the Fae or Elves, once being kissed by a star maiden, they were forever smitten. No pleasure could ever compare, often dedicating their lives for five minutes of bliss rather than a lifetime of contentment back home, most going mad or killing themselves in their eternal chase for beauty. Titania was most generous with Torvil in her affections, letting the Elf prince hold her by the bottom as she reclined in his grasp, her thin waist accentuating the hefty globes of her glowing breasts. Oberon and Gebson both were tempted to take her down now, but until the sun reached its apex, she would be free to fly away. This was the one day where she would be forced to the ground. Torvil had a hard time reconciling dream and reality as he held her, relishing the feeling of his hands sliding against her moist, silken skin, his fingers slowly gliding along the edges of her chest to the inviting opulence of her breasts. Just as his finger tips were about to sink into her ripe peaks she left his grasp, and wrapped one of her legs around him as she kissed him on the forehead. The Taming of Titania He held her at an angle higher than himself, the two looking like two lovers frozen in mid-dance. He said nothing, his eyes completely consumed by the divine vision of her pouting tits, glowing from the light she captured from the sun and the delicate sheen of perspiration that gleamed over her smooth skin. She beamed at him, before mashing his face into her warm bosom. "Torvil of Alfheim...I have heard your desire for me through the winds...seen your lust for me in your dreams..." He sighed in her embrace, able to breathe deeply of her fragrance, which smelled like rose petals crossed with lavender. Even as he kept his eyes closed, he could see her radiant light through his eye lids, her feminine orbs pressing softness and the warmth of the sun on the sides of his face. "I have but one question..." She pulled his face from the smothering valley of her flesh, his expression telling her he wanted nothing more than bury his face between her massive, golden breasts. "Am I fairer than the fairest of maidens in Alfheim?" Torvil sighed. He knew she knew the answer, but indulged her conceited whim, if only because it was the truth. "Yes." Titania barely suppressed a frown. She preferred more fawning and odes to her beauty. "So you have seen all the maidens of Alfheim then?" Torvil grinned, relishing the feel of his fingers slipping and kneading into the satiny smooth skin of her heart shaped bottom. "Only the ones worth seeing, my lady." It was then Torvil narrowly dodged an arrow that whisked past his head. Oberon cursed, he knew it would miss when he saw the Elf's long ears twitch a second before the arrow came to its target. Gebson had already pulled out some of his traps, looking at the high sun with an eager smile. Titania let loose a contented gasp, affording herself a brief grind against Torvil's torso before jumping off. Mortal danger turned her on, and the fact that men were willing to slaughter each other just for her turned her on even more. "Oh my the time is nigh! Two princes and a fisherman...who shall win my love!?" She thrust her chest out, letting her hands massage her heavy breasts, before moving down to her writhing belly and flared, breeding hips, her lush curves instilling dangerous lust in the men before her. "Only the worthy shall have my hand...let the hunt begin!" She twirled like a spinning flower, before coming to the edge of the woods. Gebson gulped when he took in the full display of her agility, her legs a blur before his mortal eyes. Even more intimidating was her ability to seemingly blink out of reality, appearing in multiple spots without actually running to them. Oberon and Torvil's eyes could see what Gebson's eyes could not. Though barely perceptible to even their refined senses, they could perceive her teleport from anywhere sunlight touched the land, a gift from the Gods to remedy her lack of flight for one day. In the night however, not only would she be more visible, but she would only be able to travel from one pool of moonlight to another, not the easiest thing to do in the shadowed wood. This was how he was going to capture her, thought Oberon, when her advantages were nothing before his cunning. The Fae prince launched up into the air, leaving a crest of wind and grass in his wake as he soared over the forest. Torvil eyed his shrinking shape in the distance with envy, before remembering he had a human to dispatch. He spun around, just in time to see the last of Gebson slink into the shadows of the wood. No matter. He would die later, while The Wild Hunt would dispatch Oberon. And then he, and he alone, would claim her, and be hailed in Alfheim as both conqueror and hero... *** Gebson sat behind the rocks of a river, slowly readying his tools as he beheld Titania, bathing in the stream. His eyes were in a constant state of adjustment, pondering the unreality before him, watching the rushing water reflect through her clear form as the afternoon rays of sun filtered through her. It was hard for him to concentrate, making sure he took the correct precautions while never missing a chance to ogle her curvaceous form. Titania for her part, seemed to be fully aware of her admirer, moaning seductively as she washed her breasts, her round orbs bouncing to her motions, her jiggling flesh sparkling and glowing to the rushing water and radiant sunlight. Oberon watched the scene from high up on a tree, having a good vantage of the plotting Gebson and the teasing Titania. From a distance he could finally take in all of her womanly beauty. And she was all woman, despite having the demeanor of a woman who had never endured the bitter taste of consequence and loss. She had the build of one who was one with nature, with her her sculpted thighs and healthy, rounded bottom, muscled yet soft and firm. She arched her back as she scrubbed herself with some local flora, letting bubbly suds froth in between her perfect, dew drop shaped breasts and down her carved midsection, streaming around her luxurious skin and into her belly button. The Fae prince looked back to his rival hunter, who was assembling an entangling net. Though he doubted the man would succeed, he never left anything to chance. He retreated from the river and back into the woods, pulling out a whistle he had spent years carving. Once blown, it would create the most beautiful bird song known to mortals and immortals alike. And since Titania, much like Oberon, was hopelessly attracted to anything like that of herself, being impeccable beauty, she would follow in turn, like a moth to the flame. Oberon nestled between two trees, unfurling his wings as he blew his whistle. Gebson panicked as he heard the whistle...like some sort of bird he had never heard before. He was more concerned with the fact that Titania had turned around, beginning to make her way out of the river. Seeing his chance evaporating before him, he steadied himself on the rocks and cast his net at his lady love. Titania gasped as she felt the net surround her, pulling her back across the river. The first thing she noticed, was how soft and yet how tough the net was. It did not scrape or tear against her, its silken threads keeping her secure even as she struggled. If Gebson succeeded, planting his mortal seed in her and thus marking her as his forever, she would have to thank him for his considerate hunting methods. But her capture was not to last, for nature itself was upended by her duress, making the river tide all the more turbulent. As the water flow became more violent, she felt the strain of the rope increase, clinging to the enticingly soft globes of her ass as her ample bosom squeezed and pressured against the restraining threads. With a great push she broke out of her entrapment, her large, shapely breasts bouncing free of their constraints, the strong effort taking Gebson by surprise as he was dragged over the safety of his rock and into the tempestuous river. As she reached the riverbank, she turned, taking a look at the struggling fisherman as he barely kept his head above water, watching the mortal drama unfold with all the interest of watching a dog learn to swim. "Oh my poor, poor Gebson!" she cooed, jutting her hips to the side and stretching her back, arching her beautifully large and ripe, gravity defying breasts, taunting him with the full view of the silken valleys and soft curves that would never be his. "That was a wonderful endeavor, my noble hunter! If you survive, find me and I shall give you a kiss!" As he was finally swallowed by the river, she headed into the forest, any thoughts or concern of her lost suitor leaving her mind with such callousness as to make even a black widow give pause. *** She came upon the source of the whistle, and let out a gasp of pleasant surprise, seeing a pair of vivid, translucent wings nestled in between two trees, the swirling interplays of crimson and sapphire standing out among the earthy bark and leafy green tones of the forest. She teleported closer to them, homing in on the sun dappled branches of a nearby tree. Titania reached tentatively towards the wings like a child petting an animal for the first time, and flinched when the wings twitched to her glossy fingernails grazing the edge. With effortless athletic grace she balanced on one leg as she reached over to the wings once more, her arm stretched to its limit as she indulged her curiosity. In a sudden movement the wings folded and she screamed as she came off balance, the lunging form of Oberon filling her vision as he leaped from his perch. She fell onto a cushy bough below, its soft leaves and smooth branches softening her fall as she quickly scrambled up, feeling the displacement of air as her pursuer landed behind her. She nimbly leapt from branch to branch in forest, dodging around obstructions as if they were nothing. To her surprise she found he was able to keep up, even as she teleported several strides in front of him. She felt like she was being corralled, as arrows kept narrowly missing her and grazing her soft skin. She hated how easily he had lured her, but she would show him yet, show him how slight the difference was between the hunter and the hunted. Oberon was in his element. He lived for this kind of chase. He loved predicting where she would next appear, slinging a venom dipped arrow just as she blinked into existence. Foolish girl probably thought he was missing, not noticing the slow build-up of tiredness and slowness with each grazing shot. He smiled as he saw her slowing down, clawing for purchase on a massive oak tree. He leapt down to meet her, laughing as he landed. "Feeling spent, "Goddess"?" He stretched his legs and arms as she caught her breath. Strange he thought, he would of thought a star maiden would be possessed of a more hardy constitution, even with benefit of his tranquilizing arrows. "Have you lost all taste for the chase?" Titania swept her hair back, putting her hand to her forehead like a distressed damsel, letting the Fae hunter drink in of the lush swells of her breasts, heaving to her tired breath. "I give up, hunter of hunters, take me!" Her voice was full of surrender and unrestrained suggestiveness, her full lips pouting and parting submissively. Oberon stared at her hard. This was not like her. An eternity of running, inspiring the fantasies of countless men and eluding the most talented of hunters...and this was how the great Titania finally found her mate? Because she got winded? Oberon took greater stock of his surroundings. The clever girl wasn't tired from his toxins, something was amiss. Then he saw it. The trap couldn't be seen around him, only through her. His eyes peered through her light bending body and he beheld a massive bear den behind her, no doubt she would blink away just as he landed on the branch, tumbling into the predator's territory. He would not be another man fallen to her tricks. He sat down on his branch, crossing his legs as he shouldered his bow. "Oh Titania, Titania, Titania...a noble effort." He pulled a green apple from his pouch before biting down with a satisfying crunch, his face like a jester's grin. "Your tricks are great, but I am a great trickster. You must think me a child to fall for so base a trap." He smiled as he watched her slump imperceptibly, disappointed with her failed gambit. He amused himself, watching the slow rise and fall of her heavy globes as she sank to her knees, her glowing eyes growing heavy lidded as his toxins finally took its toll. Titania focused, letting her inner power slowly cleanse herself of the poisons that pumped through her. "You are not the first man to think he has me...to think that he of all people would take me as his bride..." Oberon laughed, and he laughed even harder as he saw her eyes narrow and her face wrinkle to his derision. Were she not so ethereal, he could imagine she would have turned red by now. "And you, my scornful little darling are not the first woman to think she could deny me! Rejoice, for I am he born to tame you, to bring you from a lofty, false goddess to a goodly, honored queen!" Titania smiled. She liked proud men, and could easily see he would make a good husband and a fine king. His confident bearing sent tingles down to her womanhood, causing her lips to moisten and her huge breasts to engorge and swell to her arousal. She let her fingers feather over the glowing softness of her mounds, pinching her aroused nipples, reveling in the momentary pleasure of the sensation. Soon, very soon, she would make her escape. *** Gebson pulled his soaking form through the trees, his entire body sore from his near drowning experience. Revenge and lust impelled him forward. Titania's aloofness was legendary, but to be flouted so coldly, moments from an icy death, with not an ounce of sympathy...her unjust unkindness brought the purest and darkest of all rages to his heart. The kindly, naïve fisherman was no more. A murderous wraith walked in his place. He would find her, take her, and penetrate her with with his unrepentant hate. A shining blade rose to his throat out the forest shadows. "Tsk tsk....I think the fisherman grows unwary." said Torvil, his elegant voice blending in with the natural melodies of the forest. "Kill me if you wish. I care not if it be by your hand or hers." croaked Gebson, before coughing out another gulp of water. Torvil was surprised by his readiness for death. Such acceptance usually followed after one was tired and old, not in the bright spring of youth. But then he quickly thought on how best to put this to his advantage. "Ahh my friend, I know your look well. It is the self-same one that Men sport after being scorned by our women." He put his hand on the drenched man's shoulder. "Most cannot recover from offering all their passion and love, only to be tempered by their cold affections." Torvil looked up into the trees before returning his gaze to Gebson. "Not all of us are meant to dance with the stars..." Gebson's bleary, bloodshot eyes regarded him conspiratorially. "I think my friend...that our interests are aligned." *** Oberon was enjoying the show of Titania pleasuring herself as he quietly prepared a poisonous dart. Unbeknownst to him, beneath her writhing and moaning, her shaking, full breasts and bucking hips, her heated arousal was burning away his poisons. Her sex made a wet, squelching sound as her fingers strummed away, her grip on her branch tenuous as her fingers and toes quivered and curled to her sexual ecstasy. Oberon found it maddening to prepare his dart behind his back while also trying not to be distracted by her massive, wobbling tits, her clear form making them look like soft mountains of glass, bouncing and knocking against each other. Oberon gulped when he saw two bears roll out of the den behind her, the star maiden's loud moans being a symphony of the surreal, with other nature beasts perching on nearby branches to behold divine beauty succumbing to divine pleasure. He could tell she was close, her lithe belly tensed to her troubled breath, her back arched, pushing her lush breasts forward, the waning sun throwing a red cast over her ripe mounds. He became transfixed as he saw the very beginnings of celestial bodies begin to draw themselves upon her skin, her body slowly becoming darker and less translucent. As the cloak of night fell, she would begin to resemble her title: Star Goddess. *** Gebson was blind in his fury, following Titania's strident moans like carrion to a corpse, ready to strike her down and wound her chastity with his raging lusts. He scrambled from tree top to tree top, scraping himself with each jump, not having the nimble fluidity of his Elven counterpart, but making up for it with sheer muscle and manic determination. He stopped when he saw Oberon sitting on a tree. That cad. He looked passed his competitor dipping his darts in a green vial, and onto the pleasure struck Titania. Ruddy orange rays of light danced across her form, highlighting her trembling thighs, slick with her love juices, thighs that would soon wrap around him as he took from her what was his. His eyes traveled up to her round, bobbing tits, her delicate hands sinking into the soft plenty that was her lustful flesh. He salivated as he watched her nails tweak her nipples, which resembled shining stars against the rest of her breasts, her teardrop mounds as black as the cosmos but for the odd nebula that twirled along the curves of her slopes. He could take no more of this carnal torment. The fisherman turned hunter leapt for love and lust. *** Oberon's pointed ears twitched and his heart raced as his senses picked up an unmistakeable sound. The sound of danger. He instinctively threw his body off his perch, holding on by a meager branch below as his free hand threw his darts at his bounding assailant. A cry of pain and a cry of pleasure mingled in the air, as Titania boiled over into her orgasm while Gebson slammed into her tree, the sharp bark, pointing branches and piercing darts all delivering a potent concoction of misery. "I got you, bitch!" screamed the man, his voice hoarse with fury and pain. Titania was too dazed from her orgasmic afterglow to make good on her escape, and panicked when the livid man picked her up by the neck. She gasped in pleasure at his rough handling of her heavy and ample breasts, his greedy hands kneading and mashing her pliable flesh as he kissed and sucked on her neck, his groans like that of a parched man drinking water for the first time in days. Oberon looked over at the scene playing out before him, trying to pull himself back up to his perch. Feelings of rage and panic set in. He could not let a lowly fisherman take what was rightfully his. And then panic gave way to despair as a familiar boot crunched down on his fingers, the gloating face of Torvil leering down at him. "Pity, Oberon, that we never got properly acquainted..." sneered the Elf, as he unsheathed his gleaming, silver blade. He ignored the impassioned and tearful cries of Titania. The starry harlot could wait, his foe could not. Oberon dodged his downward swing, pulling him down by the arm before flying into action. But Torvil was clever, for as he fell down, he extended his other hand onto the Fae's wings, hitching a ride as both flew into the unforgiving and abrasive branches of the upper forest. Titania had finally come to her senses. The groping fisherman that had become lost in her magnificent, bouncy chest and soft, jiggling bottom had come to claim her. The fact that he was perilously close to doing so, thus robbing her of her beloved immortality, sent fresh power and adrenaline into her legs, fear driving her to freedom. Her leg slammed into his gut, winding him as she jumped to the very edge of her branch, watching the sky intently as the last of the sun dipped beneath the horizon, a glowing moon taking its place. Gebson shook his head, gasping for breath, before leaping for the star maiden. Titania felt ill when she beheld the ire that poisoned his soul and echoed through his wide eyes, his mouth agape and frothing with his unrestrained fury. None of her suitors across eternity had such cause to scorn her, and she wondered what drove him to such indecent bouts of passion. But it was no matter, for as soon as the moon had risen, laying its lakes of light among the trees and ground, she teleported, just as Gebson reached the space she occupied. She looked on with horror as Gebson fell off the branch and tumbled to the forest floor with a sickening crunch, before the bears she had led Oberon to rushed out and began devouring the poor soul, his horrible screams filling her ears for a moment before all sound suddenly ceased. Over the years she had led numerous men to their deaths, but had never stuck around to see them die, blissfully unaware of her actions and their dire consequences. The Taming of Titania It was not death itself that disturbed her, indeed she had always thought it romantic when potential lovers died for her, but the vicious, untamed and savage nature of the bears made her think of fallen past loves. How many before had suffered such barbarous ends? The brutal reality of the scene and her dark thoughts struck a chord within her, an unfamiliar feeling that she desperately wanted to be rid of. Was this what the mortals called guilt? No, it couldn't have been, he was not worthy of her affections anyway, his death was proof of that. She disregarded the thoughts as quickly as they came, and marveled at her twinkling skin, now that she looked like a walking galaxy, her tresses as soft as silk, as gentle as water but glowing a deep, incandescent red. Her large breasts were an abyssal black, yet remained as soft, warm and as welcoming could be, her bountiful, fertile mounds dotted and dipped with moving comets and astral clouds, the celestial lights curving and swirling in tandem with her own seductive movements, outlining the irresistible ripeness of her voluptuous curves. This was how she preferred to be seen, no longer hollow, but carrying the light of paradise within her very body. She sensed that this was going to be a night to remember. *** Oberon screamed in agony as Torvil mutilated his wings with deft slashes from his blade. He body slammed the Elf into a rotting log, stomping down on his chest before pulling out his own daggers. Torvil was quick, rolling out of his way and parrying the lightning quick stabs from the enraged Fae. Their mortal combat was interrupted as a massive explosion of white light washed out shadows and beams of the moon alike. The princes stared into the sky, Torvil in wonder, Oberon in terror, his hair standing on ends as The Huntsmen announced their arrival by screaming into the air, their enigmatic nature hiding whether it was joy or fury being expressed. Both exhaled in relief as the glowing forms of The Huntsmen scattered in every direction but theirs. The Fae prince hoped that if they came for him, they would save him for last. If not, he vowed to himself that he would not go quietly into the night. Oberon turned back to the Elf before he did, throwing one of his daggers into Torvil's leg before bounding off into the night, his shout of pain bringing a smile to his face. Time was of the essence. The Wild Hunt had begun. *** Oberon cleared away the sharp brambles that stuck to his face, now thoroughly bloodied and dirtied from a day of struggle. He field wrapped his wings in leafy bandages, the amputated tips stinging any time he touched them. It was of no consequence. They would grow back and he had trained himself as a hunter from the ground. No doubt the foolish Elf thought he was leveling the playing field. He shivered as he heard piercing laughter against the sky, and his heart leapt as he feared the Huntsmen had already come. A breath of relief seeped from his lips when he didn't see any tell tale flames or flying horses. He turned back to the dark forest, absorbing the sounds of the night life. The crickets chirped, his pointed ears twitched involuntarily as gnats hassled him, while the moonlight howls of wolves filled the air. And then he heard her. His prize. Giggles and mirthful laughs wafted through thick branches and leaves. She stood far enough away to tease but not to be in danger, and even from this distance, Oberon could see her womanly form. He wished he had Torvil's sharp Elf eyes to fully take in her nighttime beauty. It was said when star maidens knew love they would no longer be star maidens, taking on a more humble but no less beautiful form, their allure for their mate alone...but when they knew lust...all the world would know. Titania was awash in carnal need, the stars and heavenly formations on her skin flaring and flashing in a multitude of colors, showing her supple, voluptuous body was ripe for the taking. Her lustrous hair rested over her massive globes, her tresses glowing with ruby light, running like rivers of celestial fire down her body, outlining the curvature of her giant, round breasts. She danced and sang in the moonlight, twisting and undulating her belly in her sacred dance, letting the heavy fullness of her pert breasts sway and quiver to the rhythm of her moves. Beams of moonlight shone down her narrow and toned back, highlighting her gyrating ass cheeks with just a sliver of light, the firm mounds of her bottom like waning crescent moons, as eager as her to be groped, felt and taken. Her eyes were like stars unto themselves, youthful and doe-like, belying the eternity she had spent on this earth. And like a doe, her body broadcasted what she could never consciously admit to: that she wanted to be mounted by a stag, mated underneath the midnight stars for all to see. She stopped suddenly, the generous swells on her chest heaving to her breath, before she outstretched her arms to the sky and thrust her breasts out. "Come Princes of Elves and Fae, to my lair! Show me your skill, your prowess, your mastery of the hunt if you dare!" Overwhelming arousal washed through her soul anew, causing the starry constellations on her pillowy tits to explode into radiant luminosity, milky light momentarily washing over her big soft breasts before they returned to enveloping darkness. "Only one can win me on this most auspicious of nights!" Oberon's proud heart became heated in anger. Her taunts and jests had become most tiring, the impulsive woman having no idea just how close she was to final surrender. He smirked. All her life she had become accustomed to the endless chase, leading untold numbers of men to death and disappointment. Tonight it all came to an end. *** The black sky of night stretched across the sky, choking out the last rays of light. Like distant war drums, the howls and screams of the The Wild Hunt could be heard far off, sending flocks of birds scattering into the star pitted darkness. Oberon's hands shook and trembled when he heard Torvil's steps and leaps far ahead of his own. They followed her challenge, sprinting to her lair, a well defined place where the trees joined together and intertwined to grow branches formed like elk horns. It was bad enough that somehow Torvil had known the location that he spent years trying to find, but worse still, were the unmistakeable sounds of a woman who was enjoying the attentions of a lover. How could he have trapped her with just his bare hands? His mind reeled at how easily Torvil had caught up with her. He was haggard, his breath raggedy as his heart sank, seeing the Elf prince begin to fondle and grope Titania. He smiled though, when he saw she had not lost her astral appearance, the Elf savoring his catch, kissing her deeply as his light hands sank into her dark, plush breasts, glowing in the dim moonlight and with the celestial bodies that danced along her skin. It was agony to hear her moans, to see her wrap a leg around him. But the sight would not last, Torvil's fondness for luxury would be his undoing, as this was not a night for sensuality, but for conquest. Oberon drew his bow, Titania's moans covering up the creaking sound as he notched an arrow. Torvil wallowed in the sweet taste of Titania's luscious lips as he savored her heavenly scent, reveling in the softness of her yielding body. But then his pleasure ended with racking pain, feeling a trio of arrows plunge through his back, two puncturing his lungs while one impaled his heart, bringing him to an unceremonious end as he slid down the maiden's nubile form, his face dragging down the lavish and ample slopes of her chest, slipping down her taut belly and past her dripping sex, none of it to be for his taking, as he fell to the ground. Titania looked down on her prospective suitor with a cruel smile as he coughed out a trickle of blood. This was how she preferred death. Civilized, clean and without savagery. Two down, one to go. She looked up to her savior, and winked at him, before frolicking off into the forest with a joyful giggle, blending into the star studded night once more. "Catch me if you can fair prince!" Her tease echoed through the forest, punctuated with more laughter. Oberon grimaced, strapping his bow to his shoulder once more as he resumed his chase among the star lit branches. The young nymph could laugh all she wanted, she would be his. He had come too far to be swept up into The Wild Hunt. *** Oberon moved quickly through the trees, the wind whistling through his unkempt hair as he leaped down to the forest floor. Distantly, he was aware of the melodious laughter of his prey, growing closer and closer. He produced fine, nearly immaterial chords from his rucksack, the delicate threads invisible in the shadow of night as he strung it from tree to tree, his traps set at ankle, waist and chest level. He tested them, flicking their strained spans with his fingers, letting a resonant, vibrating sound play across their lengths. With a silent motion he hopped back up to his forest perch, his woodsman regalia making him invisible against the shaded bark of the trees, the sparkling glint of his eyes blending in with the starry sky. *** Titania moved as fast as light and blended just as completely with the sky and the shadows. The deaths of Gebson and Torvil had her thinking, about the hunt, and her life. A part of her wanted to still be free and run among the trees for eternity...but eternity was a long time, especially with none to please her pent up desires, to please her yearning to love and to be loved. To give herself up to a mortal would mark the end of her own immortality, a dear gift that she did not want to part with. It had to be the right man, but the right man did not breathe on this earth! She was ripped from her thoughts when she felt rope wrap around her dainty ankles, and then the rest of her body, throwing her face first into the ground, a plume of autumn leaves blowing up in the air to accompany her descent. "Got you!" said the icy voice of the man she defied and desired. She screamed as she felt more rope wrap around her wrists and a rough boot push her legs apart as she became spread eagle on the forest floor. This was it, a worthy hunter at last, come to claim her! As much as her loins urged to be filled and be overcome by Oberon's embrace, there was still a part of her that told her she wasn't done yet, that this didn't have to be easy. Her survival instinct kicked in, clamoring to hold on to her immortality and remain a Star Goddess for just a little longer. She thrashed in her restraints, howling into the wood even more, desperate for any aid from the forest spirits. But, as a Daughter of the Gods, her teasing, vexing and tempting nature had cost her the friendship of many a woodland creature. She had slighted too many and dallied too long in their trees. Now none would help, leaving her celestial spirit and body to be burned away in the fires of the prince's lust. She shuddered as she felt his voice in her ear. "You should have joined your sisters in the sky when you had the chance...enjoy the fruits of your mocks you trifling little nymph!" He flipped her glistening body over, ripping down his pants as he spared a fearful glance into the sky. The Huntsmen grew ever closer, their screams becoming more maniacal as the fires they spread in the sky glowed ever brighter. He crushed his lips against her mouth, mad with lust. She gasped as she felt the head of his cock brush up against her pussy, her legs trembling with fear and anticipation until in the space of one sharp breath he impaled her, his throbbing manhood piercing into her moistened folds as if they were made for each other. Her intense moans accompanied his groans, his cock unused to the sheer heat and wetness that awaited in her tight slit, more responsive and welcoming than any mortal he had been in. His hands moved up to her starry tits, his fingers cupping and squeezing around her huge, ripe and fertile slopes. Her pliant globes were achingly soft against his grabbing hands, globes that he had longed to fondle and hold since he very first saw her. Now that he had them, they were-she was everything he thought she would be. Her melodious moans sang to his soul, the very embodiment of the feminine, urging him on to sow his seed and make her his mate. His deeper, more powerful thrusts were the response to her lustful command, his eyes taken with the sensuous display of the cosmos that danced along her lithe form. Emerald and sapphire light twisted along her carved midsection, moving in rhythm to their rut and highlighting the tremulous slopes of titflesh that swayed from her chest, her sculpted breasts glowing each time he squeezed them, her flesh momentarily showing his fading fingermarks as clusters of stars before returning to jet black once more. He rushed down to kiss her, noticing some of her restraints were wobbling loose. Her muffled whines of delight did not fool him. If given the slightest chance, she would bound off like a freed rabbit, her energetic grinding only a preview of her supernatural agility that he had come to know all too well. Their tongues tangled, swapping their saliva and smoldering passion, while Titania's flared, rounded hips fell into the ancient rhythm of returning his thrusts. Oberon relished the feel of her tits squeezing into his chest, his cock drenched in her arousal as the velvet glove of her inner walls contracted around his shaft, massaging his sensitive manhood with instinctive vigor. She kept wriggling her wrists through her restraints, her mind wanting her to leave and keep up the eternal chase, her instincts demanding she revel in her sexual awakening. She shuddered with each penetrating slam, her belly twisting to her struggling motions, gasping each time the prince's balls slapped against her ass, each forceful collision of their bodies making her starry ebony slopes quiver and sway. She moaned at feeling her perspiration drenched breasts slide against his chest, her upturned mounds glistening like a warm, steaming ice sculpture. She shrieked in ecstasy feeling his deep, passionate strokes, his ragged, hot grunts in her ear as he pressed the full weight of his body on hers. His hands moved up from her smooth thighs, caressing her full, voluptuous tits before grabbing her face and kissing her lips with brutal need. She came as he bottomed out in her silken pussy, and knew then that she was trapped, her pleasure subduing her defiance as feral moans were ripped from her delicate throat, her nails digging into the ground as she bucked her hips against him. Her body had stopped fighting, pinned underneath his weight, she was well and truly caught. Her groans and husky panting had mellowed into delicious whispers and moans, letting him hear the sounds of his victory. As her back stretched, she offered her perfect breasts to him, swaying enticingly, their incredible size and luscious softness symbolizing how young and fertile her form was, eager for male essence. Oberon grunted with delight, stuffing his face into her generous bosom, his drool dribbling down her overflowing mounds, before he forced one of her massive globes into her mouth, sucking fervently, lashing her sensitive nipple as he thrust even harder. She moaned loudly at his intense sucking, her trapped hands digging into the earth as her body quaked with lust and pleasure. She gasped as she felt his moss stained hands grope the fleshy, muscled spheres of her bottom, squeezing greedily as he brought her up to meet his cock, her wide hips completely engulfing his surging manhood. Other woodland creatures perched from the trees, watching the midnight ravishment with curiosity, the moans of the conquered maiden musical, like the strains of some long lost songbird. Moonlight dappled onto her large, pouting breasts, trembling like soft mountains as her bright white eyes fixated on him with utmost intensity, shining like stars as she moaned in surrender to his manhood. She wanted this so much, to be taken and claimed, to carry his seed within her ripe womb, and yet freedom called to her, its siren song blaring in her ears as she realized she was perilously close to being his mate forever. She couldn't help wanting more of him, needing more of him, as her lustful body conspired against her freedom and intensified the rhythmic undulations around his cock, the smothering sheathe of her sex eager to suck down his essence. Her breath was short, her massive, pendulous breasts shuddering as her stomach tensed and released, her body at the apex of pleasure, until sexual oblivion consumed her. Her mouth opened in soundless bliss as goosebumps spread across her moist, moonlit flesh. Every nerve had been set alight with molten pleasure as multiple orgasms wracked her body. Her vaginal walls clenched and shuddered at her climax, milking and clamping around her lover past his breaking point as he moved away from her luscious breasts and shot his tongue down her throat. His grabbing hands squeezed around her deliciously ample and soft tits as he spurt his virile seed into her celestial womb, her fertile garden eager to grow and bloom. Her skin flared with blinding light, as bright as the golden sun as her being was stripped of its celestial form, her everlasting spark relinquished in a tempest of orgiastic ecstasy. The woodland animals scurried away, shunning the light as it shone through the forest trees in a wild array of colors, the swan song of the last immortal. She howled in rapture and release, her squelching pussy sucking him for every powerful drop, rope and spurt of his spend, eager to be seeded and not letting one drop escape from hot womb. She lay writhing underneath him, her sensually soft and gigantic breasts swelling outwards under the weight of his chiseled chest, her hips bucking in spasms of pleasure as she moaned softly into his neck, lost in the sensation of finally giving herself to a man. Her ecstatic gasps rang out as she felt a new warmth pulse through her veins, the stars and nebulae on her skin fading away as her jet complexion lightened into healthy peach tones, her body taking on the form and appearance of whose seed she had taken, that of the Fae. She felt new pleasure wash through her veins, new sensations greet her skin, new life throb in her belly, she felt...mortal. She was a Star Goddess no more. Oberon breathed into her ear, utterly spent from his trying day. He dragged his hand around her lithe body, taking in the softness of her skin, letting his fingers cup her silken globes, causing her to sigh with pleasure, before he kissed her forehead. He froze when he saw cold light caress her face, and stared up just in time to see a luminous horsemen canter by, each clop of the hoof echoing more than it should, the rider bearing the visage of something innately beautiful yet horrifying. His heart pumped thunderously, hoping the horsemen would not take him, that it would recognize Titania as his consort. The rider stopped, his horse giving off a demonic snort as it exhaled into the cold forest air. For all his imposing show and ominous presence, he simply looked down at the sweaty new couple, giving a nod to Oberon before launching back into the air once more, letting loose a blood curdling laugh as he set the sky aflame in his wake. Oberon sighed in relief and then caressed her hair, no longer the burning violet-red of a dying star, but a lustrous auburn, as smooth and flowing as air as it slid through his fingers. "You are mine Titania...and I am yours. We shall be King and Queen someday." Her once starry eyes had turned vivid blue, her pupils large and misty, taking in her new lot in life. "But tonight, we celebrate."