Chapter One: The Journey Begins
by Shadowloup


Silent tendrils of early morning mist crept through the evergreens as Cammi Longclit strode over the rich brown carpet of fallen pine needles as she followed the ancient path towards the distant cities of Sugnillinuc and Sugnillana.

Her hair, gold like straw ready for harvest, was tied back from her face and into a tail like that of a pony, revealing her merry countenance, mischievous green eyes, and pretty dimpled cheeks. Taller than most men, the blond warrior carried her mighty oak spear easily upon her shoulder. She had confined her bouncy bosom with a loose green cloth. A short, loose skirt gave minimal protection to her hips and loins, and allowed that impressive feminine organ which was her namesake to slap wetly and pleasantly between her thighs.

All these pleasant sensations aroused her, though she was easily aroused in the morning. Her nipples pushed through the cloth, and her prodigious clit swelled proudly till it was the length of a child's hand. Her womanly slit grew moist, its tang matting her darker pubic hair.

Down the forest path was a glen where another woman stood in the mottled sunlight. This woman had hair dark as the bark of pine, and light skin upon which were painted triangles from the crown of her forehead, down the sides of her face and cheeks, down along her arms and across the sides of her tits. She too carried a spear, and was clad in a simple brown woolen loincloth.

Only upon seeing the mysterious stranger did Cammi.

"Welcome and greetings sister-slut," she said with a smile. "Felicitations on such a beautiful day."

"Lascivious greetings back, oh aroused one," replied the stranger, who did not return the smile. "Might I complement you on your lovely set of dugs."

"Oh, you may," said Cammi, as protocol demanded. "And may I complement you on your own natty pair of firm knockers."

"Upon my tits, you are certainly very courteous. They call me the Wild Wench of Widdershins."

"Pleasured am I to meet you. I am named Cammi Longclit, and I am bound for Sugnillinuc"

"That is unfortunate, for to go there you must pass me. And none may pass me today."

"Why is that?"

"I am whimsical, and that is today's whim."

"Is there no way of overcoming this whim?"

"There is. If you can best me in two out of three contests of strength, bravery and sluttery, I will let you pass."

"I will be delighted to meet these challenges. What are they?"

"The first will be nude mud wrestling. The second we shall decide upon, and the third, should it get that far, will be a contest of spears."

"I accept," Cammi said.

And so the Wild Wench led Cammi to a nearby pool of mud. The two stripped and faced each other across the brown expanse. The wench attacked first, diving head first at Cammi. But the young warrioress stood firm as a tree, and merely gripped her opponent's head between her knees. Then Cammi picked up the wench's hips and sat down in the mud, driving the wench's head beneath the surface.

Though she was not as strong as Cammi, the wench was very slippery and managed to turn her body around so that her front faced Cammi's front.

Seeing a tasty twat between two flailing legs, Cammi decided to tongue the wench's clit into submission. But just as her first tongue blow fell upon the stiff little clitty, bubbles erupted from below the mud, and Cammi felt a light bite upon the girlish gristle between her own legs.

"Naughty!" she said, and picked up a sticky handful of dark mud which she stuffed into the pussy before her. The legs gyrated wildly, so Cammi stuffed more mud between the plump twat lips. Now the brown ooze flowed out, turning the pink lips muddy brown.

The wild wench's arm slapped the mud in submission, and Cammi let her opponent go.

Cammi's ass was covered in the sticky dark goop, while the wench's face, hair and teats were caked with it, and her bosom heaved as she caught her breath.

"You fight well, slut," the wench said with begrudged respect.

"Thank you. I learned in my village Anigav, where the boys love to wrestle. They would try to wrestle me to the ground every day. I usually won."

"Usually?"

Cammi gave a shy smile. "Sometimes I would get so inflamed from wrestling, I would loose on purpose so they could have their way with me."

"I see," the wench said. "Well, we must now decide upon another contest."

"Do you not have one already planned?"

"Never have I lost the first contest, and my opponents withdrew before the second. I could have bested you. With your long clitoris exposed, I would have made short work of you had I not followed the rules of combat etiquette."

"If you are open to suggestions, I propose a riddle contest," Cammi said.

"A riddle contest? Why?"

"Oh, have we started riddling already? That is unfair for I am unprepared," Cammi said.

The wench studied Cammi for a second.

"I propose an ass slapping contest," the wench said.

"But your ass is weaker than mine," Cammi said.

"I disagree," the wench replied. "and we shall settle this dispute with an ass spanking contest."

"What is that?"

"We shall spank each other's rumps until one of us begs for mercy," the wench said.

"That sounds fair. Who shall go first?"

"Since I have challenged you, I believe that the natural order of things requires me to take the first blows spread across your lap."

"I take it there shall be no implements?" Cammi said.

"Barehanded only."

"This is acceptable," Cammi said.

She and the wench made their way to the base of the tallest tree whose gnarled and ancient roots jetted from the surrounding soil like living rock. Cammi sat upon one root, and the wench slid down her trousers and draped herself across the warrioress' lap.

Cammi surveyed the pink pair of nether cheeks displayed before her. With an open yet steady hand, she sent three devastating blows. Each jiggled the firm muscle, and the sharp slap of sound echoed off the surrounding trees.

The wench's breathing had quickened a little, and her pink skin was mottled with red splotches, but she was able to look over her shoulder at Cammi and said "I felt a light breeze. Have you started?"

Cammi pouted.

The wench stood, and it was Cammi's turn to step out of her skirt and set her own pink fanny atop the wench's lap.

One, two, three times did slaps ring across the glen. Two, four, then six times did hands pound bouncing, reddening buttocks. Five, then ten, then fifteen times did slaps ring like thunderclaps through the trees.

Both the wench and Cammi's faces were red with exertion and wincing with pain. But Cammi had tears in her eyes, and at the sixteenth slap cried "Mercy!" first.

The wench smirked as Cammi shuffled to her feet, rubbing her uncomfortable behind.

"We are tied at a contest apiece," the wench said. "We shall proceed to
the spear throwing contest." She then led the way through the forest to the edge of a great green valley. Far away, at the other side of the valley sat a small village nestled against an untilled, dark muddy field.

"I can throw the blunt end of my spear fifty feet, and with such accuracy that no more than three inches penetrates your back passage," The wild wench said.

"That I would like to see," Cammi replied.

So Cammi paced off fifty feet, bent over, and spread her rear crack, allowing the wench to survey the tight, crinkled target.

With a short run, her feet thudding on the forest ground, the wench hurled the spear. The wench gave it just enough force to lodge within the confines of Cammi's rump. Cammi grunted and stood up, spear still held in her anal cleft. The wench giggled as Cammi pulled out the spear and rubbed her buttocks to lessen the ache.

"That was a good throw," Cammi said. "But I can throw it further. See that black speck in the field?"

"Just barely."

"I can hit that."

The Wench merely snorted as she peered into the distance.

And so Cammi took her spear, took several running steps and hurled her weapon.

The wench arched an eyebrow as she peered through the leaves towards the field where the spear flew.

"Are you not impressed?" Cammi asked, feeling very pleased with herself.

"You have indeed thrown it further, though I like not the looks of where it landed," the wench said. "And neither will you."

"Those are strange words, wench."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But I will grant that you did throw the spear further than I, though whether with more accuracy will have to be debated on another day. Either way, you have indeed bested me. You may pass."

With that, the wench turned and strode back into the forest, neither leaf nor blade of grass turning aside at her passing.

Cammi mused not long over the strange words of the wench. Deciding that the wench might have partaken of ripened grapes before initiating the contest, Cammi shrugged and walked in the direction she had hurled her spear. The breeze, as light and airy as the thoughts passing through her head, caressed her blond hair.

After a half a day of traversing the valley, Cammi neared a small village made of circular houses built of wood and thatched with straw. The buildings huddled together like a herd gathering for protection from the wild and magical forest surrounding the valley. There were few adornments. Children ran and played in the sunlight, while chickens strutted about and dogs lay in the shadows of building, lazily barking at anything intruding upon their area. Smoke from freshly lit evening fires swirled through the air.

At one building, slightly better kept than the rest, stood a group of villagers, rough clad and dusty from their daily toil. A knot of men bearing shovels, wearing clothes both dusty and dirty, crowded round a robed woman. As Cammi neared she heard some weeping and wailing.

"Oh woe is us! Some awful person has killed our great ox," cried one.

The woman, clad in bright ceremonial clothes of a priestess, listened thoughtfully. A slender hand caressed the dark brown hair which fell to her shoulders. Her countenance was pleasantly dusky like the fertile soil.

"Who would wish to cause us such grief?" she asked. "Have some of you men been molesting women from another village?"

"No, milady," replied one villager.

The priestess eyed them with bemused suspicion, a faint smile playing upon her lips.

"Pardon me, fair folk," interrupted Cammi, "but are you in some sort of difficulty?"

"Some belligerent force seems to have slain the village's sacred ox," replied the priestess, who casually studied the newcomer.

"Where is this belligerent force so that I may subdue it?" the warrioress asked.

"We do not know. But that, I think, is the lesser of our problem. For this was the sole ox owned by the village, and we needed it to do our spring tilling."

The priestess paused in her sad tale to smile benignly. "My name is Jestina I am the elderslut of this town, which we call Palsyssup. Who have I the honor of addressing?"

"I am Cammi Longclit, of Anigav. I am the mightiest warrior in my village, and for that reason they have set me on a quest."

"Indeed? And what sort of quest are you on?"

"I have been charged with finding wrongs and setting them right."

"That is a mighty and ponderous task," Jestina said. "How long have you been at it?"

"For less than the waxing of the moon. But I must remain upon it till all wrongs are righted. Our own village elderslut commanded it."

Jestina turned her attention back to the men. "Take me to the slain beast," she said.

The distraught group did so, and Cammi followed.

There, in the field beyond the village, lay the body of a big black bull, a large oaken spear sticking out of its body.

"Who would do such a terrible thing?" another villager asked . "This ox Babe was of no harm to anyone. Yeah, the gods piss down upon us."

"I was wondering where my spear had gotten to," Cammi said, moving to take the weapon which impaled the beast.

"Am I to understand this is your spear?" Jestina asked.

"Indeed it is," Cammi said, hefting the weapon. "But why is it embedded in your village's ox?"

"Mayhaps you threw it?"

"Are you saying that I killed your sacred ox? This cannot be true, for I love animals," Cammi Longclit said.

"So how did your spear come to rest through the heart of our sacred ox?" asked the priestess.

"I do not know, for the last I remember of it was that I hurled it during a contest between myself and the Wild Wench of Widdershins. But I threw it towards a dark speck on the horizon, not your ox."

"I fear that that black speck was none other than our sacred ox," Jestina said. "Though I must confess that if you bested the Wild Wench of Widdershins, you are a person to be reckoned with."

Cammi Longclit mused over this, her face furrowed in thought, her green eyes free from guile or cunning.

"It is very simple," explained the kindly Jestina "Do you see those specks in the distance from the way you came to our village? Those were once the very trees beneath which you passed on your journey. As you arrived here, so did those lessen in size until they are now merely black specks."

"Oh dear,' said Cammi. "I must be more careful where I hurl my spear in the future."

"That would be wise," said Jestina. "But the more immediate problem is that these poor villagers are without a beast of burden to help them with their spring plowing. I fear they will have a hard time of it."

Cammi looked at the villagers, who were all looking at her, some with anger at so thoughtless an act as she had committed, others with fear at her prowess, others with lust as they examined her body.

"What ever shall you do?" Cammi said. "I am very sorry to have committed this deed, and would like to make amends. How can I do so."

"One so strong as you might take the place of the beast of burden, oh great warrioress," replied Jestina. "They but need someone very strong to pull their plow and furrow their fields. If you would not mind toiling for a few hours with harness, you could alleviate some of their suffering."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," replied Cammi.

The ox's harness was brought out and fitted to Cammi so that it wrapped around her shoulder and across her chest, fitting between her succulent boobies.

Two farmers were assigned to help her as the others returned to the village. One was more elderly, a farmer all his life from the look of his homespun clothes, rough hands and long whitened beard, all of which spoke of years of toiling with the land to bring sustenance to the village. The younger farmer was just as muscular. The older man called him Brad.

"Perhaps I should remove my clothing so as to not get it dirty," Cammi said.

"It is such fine clothing, miss, that I'm sure you are right." the elder farmer said.

"I'm feeling overheated as well," said Brad. He looked at the elder farmer, and the two men also undressed.

Both men surveyed the beautiful blond, with her jutting tits and well-rounded rump.

"Why are your ass cheeks so red?" Brad asked.

Cammi blushed. "I'd prefer not to talk about it."

The trio began tilling. While Brad steered the plow, the elder walked beside the warrioress. He was very eager to help Cammi keep her balance by frequently reaching out to steady her when she looked as though she might falter. He seemed most worried about her buttocks and teats, which he frequently steadied from their constant wobbling. Cammi gasped as his fingers prodded her nipples, making them harden. Her face grew red at the exertion and from embarrassment.

"Must you always touch my tits?" Cammi asked the elder farmer.

"It is only to steady your way, child, for we must make certain that the rows are as straight as possible."

Cammi conceded the wisdom in this. When she looked backward, she could see the younger Brad eyeing her buttocks hungrily. So she walked with a little extra wriggle in her rump, even though that was difficult due to the uneven ground.

Once again she stumbled, the leather harness chaffing her boobs. Again the elder man quickly stifled their jiggling.

"These straps bind me so," Cammi said. "I would be ever so grateful if you could somehow stop them from rubbing against the harness."

Brad took his time adjusting the straps, carefully feeling between the leather and her tits, while the elder gent used some sort of oil to make her back more comfortable. Their warm hand rubbing her caused Cammi to grew aroused. Blushing, she looked down and discovered that Brad was also stiffening at the sight of her proud clit.

Reluctantly, the trio returned to plowing. After the better part of the afternoon, only a quarter of the field was tilled.

Since it was too early for supper, the trio sat beneath a tree at the far end of the field, the neat rows of brown earth spreading before them to the village.

Cammi lay between the two men. The three were overheated, sweaty, and dirty. Their shoulders rubbed, and grew even moister with sweat. Cammi found her shoulders were not the only places collecting moisture.

She casually draped a hand in each man's lap, playing with their wonderful erections.

The two men explored Cammi's thighs.

"Your female thingie is as long as a young boy's dingus," Brad said.

"I am quite proud of it," Cammi replied. "See how it glistens in the light?"

The two men got to their knees before her open thighs, their breaths tingling her twat hair, causing her clit to grow even longer.

"By the goddess, that is intoxicating," the elder farmer said.

"Might I touch it?" asked Brad.

"Gently."

With callused fingers, Brad deftly twiddled her clit. Cammi gasped. Her face reddened and her eyes closed and teats swelled. At last she could take no more, and pushed forward till she knelt atop Brad's thighs, his back and her knees in the dirt of the field.

With little fanfare, she placed his penis in her tight grotto of love, squishing down with a single mighty thrust that brought a gasp to both their lips.

Feeling awkward at leaving out the elder farmer, Cammi gestured him over. As he stood above her, she mouthed his man-muscle. He too grunted and shifted his feet, trying to hold his milt.

In her enthusiasm for Brad's ferocious thrusting from beneath, Cammi let loose with a moan of her own. Released from her mouth, the farmer's prick bounced with pleasure. It instantly spurted full across her face. Thick white spunk clung to her nose and on her cheek. Not to be left out, Brad grunted as he spurted deep up her tight vagina.

Exhausted, the trio lay back to collect their breaths.

Feeling even stronger after this bout of love, Cammi Longclit decided to display her prowess in handling her spear to her two new friends. She twirled her oaken weapon above her head though warding off blows from many assailants. With a mere flick of her wrist she stopped the rotation with her hand, thrust the spear forward, then to the side, then to the rear.

Her two lovers enjoyed the sight of her sweaty, naked body rippling as she used her muscles, her firm breasts bouncing with every slash of the spear, and her smiling, pretty face still besmirched with their wet seed. To show their appreciation of her form, they clapped.

Emboldened by their clapping, Cammi thrust her spear point at the plow as though it were an enemy sword.

Her aim was true. The point struck the metal blade, raising sparks and a mighty twisted sound as the plow's blade splintered as though made of brittle ice. Iron shards flew in all directions, slashing into distant trees, and almost hitting the two farmers.

Terrified, the two men leaped to their feet and ran to the village, oblivious to their nakedness. As they ran, they cried out "Help! Witch!"

It did not take long for elderslut priestess Jestina to make a regal return to the field.

She found Cammi deep in thought as she pondered her spear and the destroyed plow.

"Oh my goddess," said Jestina. "Whatever has happened here?"

"I fear my spear has once again worked some mischief," Cammi said.

Jestina handed her gnarled staff to a small boy who had followed her. From somewhere she produced a skein of reddened leather from which she pulled a pinch of blue powder. This she sprinkled towards Cammi. At once, as though caught in a whirlwind, the powder swirled in slow ovals around the warrioress' body till it looked like she was enveloped in a light blue flame.

"What witchery is this?" the blond warrioress asked.

Jestina examined the aura. "I sense some sort of geas on you. Whether it diminishes or augment your strength, I know not."

More of the powder whirled round the spear held in Cammi's hand.

"I believe your spear also possesses an enchantment. What it may be is also beyond my ken."

"I have always been strong, but never before have I possessed such strength," Cammi said.

"I suspect your geas might have something to do with the essence of love on your face or between your legs," Jestina said as she took her staff back. A few curt gestures with the staff stopped the mysterious wind, and the powder slowly floated to the ground.

"Will it take the smithy long to repair the blade of the plow?" Cammi asked.

"Alas, there is no smithy. Nor is there another plow, for it, like the ox, was communally owned."

"The poor villagers. How I have afflicted and accursed them," Cammi said.

Jestina smiled serenely. "I believe we can get the fields tilled in time for planting," she said. "We will need your help. It will require a sacrifice on your part, so only offer to help if you truly mean it."

Cammi Longclit looked Jestina in the eye and reaffirmed her offer to aid in any way she could.

The next morning, after spending the night as a guest of the priestess Jestina, Cammi and eight men folk of the village returned to the partially tilled field in the early morning light. Jestina took from her serving boy several herbs, a bowl, and a skein of water. The priestess then knelt in the dirt of the field, placed the bowl upon the ground, and had Cammi kneel as well. Jestina then mixed the herbs with some water. As she stirred, she began singing a song. It started out simple, slow and quiet, but as she continued kneading the herbs, her song increased in complexity, tempo and volume. Birds ceased to chirp, and the breeze quieted, as if witnessing powerful forces being drawn from the very forest. The goo in the bowl thickened and smelled faintly of pine and elm.

At the crescendo of the song, Jestina reached over and grasped Cammi's boobs, one hand on each, and each breast overflowing the priestess' dainty hands.

Cammi gave a pleasurable if shocked grunt as her heart fluttered and a wave of pleasure coursed through her veins like fire.

Jestina continued chanting as she thoroughly smeared the green herbal ointment across Cammi's breasts. Upper slopes, under hang, nipples, all were covered by the thick mixture.

Cammi's bosom swelled with such pleasure that she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she discovered this was literally true. Her breasts now dwarfed Jestina's hands. As Cammi continued to watch, her blue eyes wide in amazement, her breasts swelled further.

Now Cammi felt pressure on her back from the weight of her twin orbs as they continued growing to a ponderous size. Gasping, Cammi put her arms to the ground to help hold the extra weight. Her breasts now extended beyond the grip of her fingers, but they were firm, with no sag. Just when she feared she would soon possess two new mountains, the growth stopped. Her nipples were buried six inches deep in the warm earth of the field.

"We will need a wheelbarrow," Jestina said to the silently awed crowd of onlookers.

When one was produced, Jestina directed the men to place Cammi upon it, her tits dangling down the front while her crotch and legs hung off the back.

Jestina knelt before Cammi's face. "I have caused your teats to grow, but have also toughened them. Fear not, it is only temporary, and the swelling will go down."

The priestess now stood and addressed the villagers. "You will accomplish your tilling. You must push her, gently, I might add. Keep her aroused, and all should be well. If you feel the need for release, do so on her face. She has some sort of geas whereby this might increase her strength."

And so Cammi Longclit was pushed across the field, plowing two rows at a time with her impressive dugs. Many men lined up to help drive her from behind, pushing her crotch forward with their own throbbing loins till she gasped. When one man's pleasure grew too much, he would run round to her front to present his spurting member to her face while another took his place behind.

Soon Cammi's face had a sheen from ear to ear, with sticky white gouts of men's juice clinging to her eyebrows, sliding down her cheeks or hanging in strands off her nose. Even her dimples were filled with cream. An occasionally well-timed entry from behind would cause her to gasp and made her tongue a tempting target.

Occasionally a man would give Cammi Longclit's buttocks a meaty slap to see it wiggle and bounce, and to hear the warrior woman squeal. Others would grasp her rigid clit, and gently wank it as though it were themselves they masturbated.

Jestina watched from the edge of the field with two village elders. One smiled as Cammi gave yet another mighty groan.

"Almost as much fun as the Feast of Deliverance, eh?" he joked.

Jestina smiled, recalling that time of year when her own rump cheeks were painted with an image of an evil spirit, to be mistreated by the villagers and thus drive away ill luck.

Thanks to the alacrity of the men, the field was tilled with the greatest speed ever. It was also fertilized with their manly spunk.

When they were done, Cammi's face swam with sperm. She had a satisfied smile on her face, though her eyes were caked closed. Jestina came forth and carefully daubed Cammi's face so the warrior could see.

Cammi Longclit rested for the second evening in Jestina's house. Upon the first light of the sun the next day, she was up. The first thing the warrioress examined was her tits. They were now normal sized for her, though slightly larger than her powerful frame would suggest.

"I told you the swelling would go down," Jestina said.

"I am both gladdened and saddened over it," Cammi said.

Next Cammi began performing repetitive motions with her body, flexing her arms rhythmically, squatting then rising with her legs. Jestina watched the warrioress.

"Those are strange motions you do, Cammi Longclit. What are they?"

"Exercises to get my blood flowing and muscles moving."

"Where did you learn them?"

Cammi paused, her brow scrunching as she attempted to recollect. "I do not know," she finally said. "In truth, I remember nothing before visiting the previous village."

"No childhood memories?" Jestina asked.

"No."

For a second Cammi looked sad, and she want back to her exercises. As she moved, she looked down at her bouncing breasts. She smiled at their motions.

"They said they liked my bouncing boobs the best," she said.

Cammi began jumping up and down. Slowly she neared the wall until she was almost touching it. It happened that her spear was resting there, and one jump caused it to slide down. The next jump brought the end of the spear beneath Cammi's foot, throwing her off balance. Her powerful frame bounced into the wall, buckling it until it gave way and fell over. It took the next wall with it, and another wall after that. And another.

Cries, screams, barks and yelps echoed off the trees of the forest along with the whine of wood being rent out of shape and shattered.

When the dust settled, it was found that all which remained of the village was a misshapen pile of straw, wooden stakes and debris.

Cammi and Jestina had managed to crawl to safety.

Cammi looked about and put a hand to her mouth in horror.

"Oh, your poor village!" she said. "Now an earthquake has leveled it. Will your misfortunes never cease?"

"By the goddess," was all Jestina could say as she surveyed the wreckage.

Later, while Cammi and some of the men collected lumber in the woods, and other villagers poked through the rubble looking for anything remotely salvageable, the town's council of elders marched to the area where Jestina ministered to the cuts and bruises of the victims of the collapse.

"Priestess Jestina, we beg you to make the she-witch go," said one of the elders.

"Indeed?" Jestina arched an eyebrow at the entourage from her kneeling position. She finished bandaging a young girl's arm, kissed the child's brow, and stood up to address the men.

"I find Cammi Longclit to be kind, generous, and not at all evil. Least of all is she a witch," Jestina said.

"It is true that she is kind, but her kindness is killing us," the elder said. "We are poor, as you well know, and barely have a pot to piss in. With her stomping about like a crazy woman, even that pot stands little chance of remaining unbroken."

"This is poor hospitality. Clumsy she may be, but she always tries to help."

"We know this priestess, and it is with the greatest reluctance that we ask. Cammi Longclit is just too powerful for her and our own good."

"This is poor hospitality," Jestina repeated. "Clumsy she may be, but she is always willing to help."

Jestina was much vexed by the request, but could still see the villager's concerns. So she hatched a cunning plan using gossip and knowledge she learned.

Here endeth Chapter One.
Chapter Two will arrive when it arrives.

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