Between Saber & Rider (Short Story) [VAULT] (Patreon)

Curiosity mixed with disappointment to form Mordred’s downward expression. She stood, hands on her hips and feet spread evenly apart. It was a mundane posture, but it felt inappropriate for the occasion, as though she should lower herself. Normally, even a polite bow was difficult to draw out of her, but the circumstance made that action impossible. How could she lower herself to be beneath a master that was only three inches tall? She was a knight of legend, ambitious in her pursuit of strength, and her commander was on the floor, only as big as a toy soldier.

“This is so lame,” she complained. She closed her eyes, as if the sight was too much to look at. “This isn’t how my Master should look. This isn’t how any Master should look!”

No human should be three inches tall, Fujimaru wanted to say, Master or not. It was a curse they wouldn’t want to see applied to anyone, not after they had been through it themselves. They felt powerless, meek, and helpless, none of the traits a leader was supposed to have. It proved to them that the stakes of these battles were high. Had it not been for one strategical error, this curse could have been avoided, Fujimaru would stand at their ordinary height, and they would be looking down at Mordred like normal.

“Normal” hardly existed in Chaldea, and it certainly didn’t exist now. Mordred was a titan now, all their servants were to them. Fujimaru’s dangerous world had only gotten more intense, surrounded by heroic spirits whose tales resonated across realms, but now multiplied in size. These characters now appeared as huge as the stories that made them heroes.

But Mordred’s ego was perhaps still bigger than that. It had flared up when she first heard the news, that her Master had been attacked and shrunken. She stepped up immediately to take responsibility; “I should have been there,” she had said, “I wouldn’t have let this happen!” Mordred was always protective of Fujimaru, a trait that they had deemed valuable while trapped in this state. She was trustworthy, and she had volunteered too, an important consideration for a Master that didn’t want to burden their team.

As they shivered beneath Mordred’s cold shadow, however, they had started to second guess their decision. The day was over, and Fujimaru had spent much of it in Mordred’s grasp. She had donned her glorious armor while taking on this task, prepared to do anything if her Master was in danger; that felt secure enough, but now that things winded to a close, Mordred unequipped her defenses and, spontaneously, put Fujimaru to the ground. No warning, no reason stated, nothing was needed to justify putting Fujimaru in a spot where they had to gawk up at their powerful Servant.

At first, there was some relief to seeing Mordred out of that hefty armor. Everything looked more terrifying at this scale, but Mordred’s iconic outfit was already enough to make a devil squirm. “You look like a giant robot,” Fujimaru had anxiously joked before. To that extent, there was some distance in how tiny they felt in Mordred’s hands. It felt like a reliable construct was handling their fragile body, and not a hot-headed woman.

“Can’t you fix this already?” Mordred tapped her foot impatiently, a minor act that Fujimaru flinched away from. She didn’t comprehend how her boots was the size of trailers, and how one idle motion was so impactful to her tiny Master. “Why don’t we get Caster? They can use magic to undo this.”

Fujimaru stuttered to speak, still intimidated by Mordred’s presence, free of her armor. “They said it would be best to wait it out,” they explained. “A cure could be painful, so I’ve been told.”

“Dammit,” Mordred sighed. She stood even straighter, as if her height wasn’t grand enough in front of Fujimaru. “Just wait it out? C’mon, Master! This isn’t like you! Just bite your thumb or somethin’, it can’t hurt that bad!”

Being impatient and brutish… That’s more like you, Mordred, Fujimaru thought. Much of Mordred’s usual spunk and spirit had been reserved up until now. As far as Fujimaru could tell, she had reached the limits of her patience.

“Sorry, my bad~” Mordred went on. “I know, this ain’t easy for you, but it’s a pain in the ass knowing you’re so vulnerable.”

Her right foot was hoisted up then, and it drifted in Fujimaru’s direction. Above their head was the sole of Mordred’s boot, black like a wrecking ball. Fujimaru stuttered, then stumbled backwards, barely able to stand under such a pressure. One arm was raised defensively, yet they knew it would do nothing to stop a committed footfall.

Fortunately, that was not Mordred’s intention. She kept the boot there, floating overhead, as a constant reminder. “I can’t even see you,” Mordred muttered. She positioned her foot and the angle of her view so that Fujimaru was entirely under it. “I could step on you like this! Anyone could!”

The foot lowered suddenly, and Fujimaru’s stance fell completely. They dropped to the ground, as though the boot’s drop created a wave of weight that made them collapse. They shouted Mordred’s name, not that it was needed to stop her; Mordred moved her foot aside so she could see them, a blatant smile taking some amusement in their reaction.

“Whaaat? Is Master scared of being stepped on?” Mordred chortled, her smile youthful and energetic. “Don’t look so spooked! I’m your Servant, aren’t I? Obviously I’m not gonna actually kill you, I’m just sayin’, it’d be really easy.”

“I-I understand that,” Fujimaru said. “Better than you do, actually…”

Mordred moved her foot back to the ground, but the power she involuntarily exerted was absent for not even a second. In the next moment, the rest of her body was rushing downwards. She squatted in front of Fujimara, closing the illusion of distance between them significantly. Fujimaru cowered back again, looking ahead at where the two large boots lead. They wanted to mention how improper this pose was for them; dead ahead was Mordred’s crotch, framed between her thighs and veiled by the short-cut jeans. They couldn’t look at anything else, nothing around was as massive and centered before them. The way her rear hovered above the ground, a distance only as long as they were tall, was a threatening sight. Fujimaru imagined in a flash how suddenly Mordred could wipe out her Master just by sitting down in the wrong spot.

Fujimaru said nothing about it, but the red on their face did. Mordred sensed something about her Master, but she couldn’t make out the details of someone so tiny. “C’mon, let’s get to my room,” she decided. A hand was offered to Fujimaru, flattened out like a platform.

Mordred had been holding her Master in her hands all day, but the experience was different now that her gauntlets were removed. She could feel all of Fujimaru’s movements more intricately, even the littlest touches, like the brush of their hands or the repositioning of their legs. Likewise, Fujimaru no longer sat over cold steel, but instead the warm flesh of Mordred’s palms. Even the tempo of Mordred’s strides felt different; each step used to be a thunder of metal that rattled the rest of her suit, a sensation Fujimaru thought was mechanical, but now the trip was bouncier and slightly faster. All the same did Fujimaru find themselves seated in the middle of Mordred’s hands, making use of her fingers as holds to balance with.

There was another change that Fujimaru felt in the atmosphere, one they couldn’t explain until they had almost reached Mordred’s room. They looked up, and it became apparent what this difference was. Two huge eyes of green studied them, not at all looking at anything else. Had she been looking at me this intensely before? they wondered. With her helmet on, I wouldn’t have noticed…

At the same time, Mordred noticed something too. Her cheeks reddened with a soft shade, but her plain expression was otherwise unchanged. “Huh? Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Fujimaru said. But, knowing Mordred could detect something, they came up with an extended reply, “I can’t stop thinking of your hand. Err, rather, how strong it is.”

“Huh. Yeah?” Mordred smiled; she was getting cocky and Fujimaru knew this. “These hands are used to swinging weapons around. They probably feel a little rough!” She laughed, not that ashamed of how rugged her traits could be.

Indeed, Mordred’s assumption was accurate. Her hands were clean and well-kept, but Fujimaru could feel the callouses that would otherwise go unnoticed. They could press their hands gently into Mordred’s, and then feel the muscle behind them, the strength that went into every finger movement. There was no way Fujimaru could contest Mordred’s grip if she happened to clench her fist.

“It’s a little sweaty, too,” Fujimaru remarked out loud.

“Hey, a-are you saying I’m nervous?” Mordred scoffed, accentuated by an unexpected halt in her walk as she reached her room in the hall. “‘Cuz I’m not! I-I just got out of my armor. The gloves get warm, ya’ know.”

Her other hand was raised and a finger pointed outward. It approached Fujimaru, then jabbed at them -- not an intentionally hard push, but with enough force to nudge her Master. Fujimaru grabbed the tip of the finger, an annoyed expression being their most resistance. If this is what Mordred wanted to do, they couldn’t stop her, but they at least wanted to know why.

“You shouldn’t say something so insulting without thinking, Master,” she said, like cooing to an animal. Appropriately, her push had lightened into a pet. She stroked at Fujimaru’s head, disregarding how they tried to pull away. “I’m sweaty because I work my ass off to protect you! Be considerate, will ya’!”

“P-Please,” Fujimaru whined, still pushing against the long tendril that was Mordred’s one finger. The petting, tender as it was, was just as much belittling. “I can’t even move! You’re touching too hard!”

Fujimaru should have known better. Right away, the weight on them became heavier. They were pinned under Mordred’s finger and against her palm, unable to kick it off despite Mordred barely applying any pressure. “I’m not doing anything too hard! You’re too weak!” she laughed. “I can control my strength. You’re just… way too weak. Seriously, can’t you just lift my finger off?”

They tried, but they couldn’t. If they had made any progress forcing the finger up off of them, Mordred would nonchalantly add more weight out of instinct. She giggled at how her Master tried, though, feeling their body squirm under her finger. The sensation was fun, so fun that she was forgetting to even open her door and enter her room. Fascination had grabbed her, this simple act of feeling Fujimaru’s body.

Fujimaru wasn’t as amused. Although they still trusted Mordred, it was humiliating to be bested like this, by a Servant no less. Mordred had always been stronger than them, that was undeniable, but this was an entirely different level. It was frustrating, obnoxious, and yet, thrilling. Fujimaru bit their lip, they weren’t going to say anything that they themselves didn’t fully understand, but there was an excitement felt from being so helpless.

That was a feeling Mordred could detect, right underneath her finger. She hummed, and her finger repositioned itself, all with the same weight as before, but isolated solely on Fujimaru’s crotch. It was a sudden change that had altered the meaning of Mordred’s teasing.

“Wh-Wha--?! Hey, hey!” Fujimaru protested. There was a giant finger pushed between their legs, clearly feeling for something specific. Their skin glowed red all over, their tiny legs kicking away at nothing in an attempt to break loose. “What are you doing?! Y-You’re… touching…”

“Master,” Mordred said, a solemn tone separating her words from how she usually spoke, “are you getting turned on by this?”

Fujimaru stammered at the question, then squealed when their world suddenly jolted forward. They latched more tightly to Mordred’s finger, its weight on their body holding them in place as she was rocked. It was unclear why all of a sudden Mordred was losing her balance, until Fujimaru heard a voice chime--

“Mordred~! You’ve been hogging Master all day!” Astolfo hugged Mordred from behind, his arms wrapped under Mordred’s. He pushed and pulled at her, nagging her to give in. “We have to share! Master agreed we’d take turns!”

“Hey, the hell do you think you’re doing…?!” Mordred groaned, forced to step forward after Astolfo had essentially tackled her. She blushed with his touch surprising her, her exposed flanks slightly tickled by his lithe fingers. “Fuck off, Astolfo, w-we’re busy!”

“You’re keeping them all to yourself!” Astolfo whined, but his smile expressed how much fun he was having just with this interaction. His head, so identifiable with the pink, feathery hair, rose above Mordred’s shoulder like a sun and the horizon. When his eyes locked onto his Master and their little form, they widened with a gasp. “Ohhh! There they are!” He shook Mordred more as he jittered with excitement. “Right, Master?! It’s my turn, isn’t it, Master?!”

Mordred jabbed at Astolfo’s ribs with her elbow, but even that shove wasn’t enough to detract Astolfo. She rolled her eyes, “It’s my turn until I say so,” she huffed, her usual demanding tone coming through once again. “So come back later! Thank you!”

Astolfo and Mordred combatted one another with these arguments, all while Fujimaru still struggled under the push of a finger -- a weight that was only getting heavier the more Mordred was distracted. They couldn’t believe the situation was real; the security of their life was being betted on, but it was presented less like an auction and more like a petty disagreement over a toy.

In hindsight, it was apparent that squabbling like this would happen, but at the time, Fujimaru hadn’t thought much of trusting these two Servants to protect them. Both had volunteered willingly, and both seemed apt for the job in their own ways. Together, however, was when problems arose.

“B-Both of you! Calm down!” they grunted. “W-We can settle this somehow, but--”

“M-Master’s! Voice!” Astolfo was agasp all over again. “It’s so, so, so, so tiny!”

Fujimaru twitched. What did their voice sound like to these two? Self-conscious and embarrassed, Fujimaru’s pleas were trumped.

“Hey, what are you doing, anyway?” Astolfo’s voice dropped two levels in energy as he flickered with curiosity. “Are you petting them?”

Mordred furrowed her brow, at first confused by what Astolfo meant. She had forgotten what she was doing before, and only then remembered that her finger was positioned right over Fujimaru’s crotch. Immediately, she released that weight off of Fujimaru, stuttering to explain herself. Fujimaru was relieved, rolling over to one side while they caught their breath.

“N-Nothing!” Mordred stumbled to speak swiftly. She marched forward again, but Astolfo’s hug persisted. “I mean, no! I wasn’t!”

“I want to pet Master, too!” Astolfo said, his head shifting which shoulder it hung over to counter Mordred’s attempts to twist away. “We can both pet them, it’d be easy! There’s plenty of Master to go around!” He chuckled, and tilted his head. “Well, just enough, anyway.”

Mordred blinked, glancing from Astolfo to Fujimaru and back. “I mean, I guess there’s no reason we both couldn’t,” she murmured, intrigued enough by the prospect. She flinched, a shiver riding up her spine so fast that it made her blush. “Whoa, wait a second.” Before Astolfo could react, Mordred had reached for him, sliding her hand between their waists. She perked up with enough strength to get out of Astolfo’s grip. “Y-You’re! You’re hard!” she exclaimed. “You’re getting turned on, too!”

Astolfo gasped when his erection had been noticed. He allowed Mordred out of his grip, backing away at the same time with a shameful expression. “N-No, no! You’re very mistaken!” Astolfo giggled anxiously, but he didn’t say anything at all to argue. “I’m not-- ooh, wh-who else is turned on…?”

Mordred and Astolfo faced each other, both equally embarrassed. Between them in Mordred’s hands, Fujimaru was in disbelief. They were overwhelmed by two giants, two Servants they thought they could trust, but were bickering over who was turned on in this situation. Making matters only worse was that they were, indeed, aroused -- a maddening thought to them, Why am I getting turned on?! At a time like this?!

An awkward silence permeated there in the hall. Mordred glared, and Astolfo remained smiling. Fujimaru looked back and forth between them before their eyes settled where Astolfo’s hands now rest, covering the front of his skirt. More awkward than anything was that detail. It was impossible to not ask themself, Is Astolfo’s dick bigger than me?

Mordred shared that same thought, in fact, and that made it a full sweep that all three were aroused to some degree. Yet, Mordred was in control, and she went to maintain that. She opened her door quickly and stepped in, making for an escape.

“Hey!” Astolfo followed just as fast. He kicked his foot into the door, blocking it from being closed as he gave chase. “Let me in! I-I just want to see Master!”

“No! You’ll just… end up hurting them.” Mordred’s argument was lacking, and in her doubt, Astolfo had powered through the door, almost tripping as he did. Mordred was annoyed, but allowed it to happen. She was flustered, unable to think straight, but it was better than locking Astolfo out and hearing him whine outside.

Astolfo was content with this, getting his balance back after that initial stumble. “I promise, Mordred, I promise~” He whined again, stomping his feet impatiently, and not realizing that he was making a series of quakes that his tiny desire could feel, even from Mordred’s hands. “It’s me, you know! If someone as strong as you can handle Master, then certainly I can!”

Fujimaru observed the grin that activated on Mordred. Astolfo was wise for adding some sugar to his words, intentionally trying to talk-up Mordred. It was a weakness of her’s, he knew, that could be easily teased. In that moment especially, Mordred wallowed in the praise.

“It can’t be helped…” Mordred sighed, keeping one hand cupped around Fujimaru as she strolled to her bed. Astolfo hopped behind her, only a few steps back. “Like you said, you’re just so weak, Astolfo. You couldn’t hurt Master even if you tried.” She turned and unveiled Fujimaru, though they didn’t appreciate being showcased. She chuckled, “I bet even tiny-Master could beat you in a fight.”

“Ah, you’re just being mean now,” Astolfo said with a sneer. He put a hand to his heart, coiling it into a fist as he spoke. “I’m a brave and handsome paladin of Charlemagne! You shouldn’t underestimate me!”

Fujimaru twisted in their seat while listening to Astolfo. He was far from their strongest and most reliable servant, but Mordred went far in her exaggerations. In truth, Fujimaru was intimidated by Astolfo, even at normal size. All heroic spirits were champions that mortals would fear being challenged by, and Astolfo, despite his kindness and playful demeanor, was no different.

Certainly that outlook didn’t change when they shrunk. Fujimaru looked across the chasm that was the space between the pair to admire Astolfo’s body, much the same way they had looked over Mordred’s earlier. His feminine attire and soft features did little to make the giant seem less threatening. He towered overhead just as much as Mordred, even more. If anything, his casual appearance only added insult to the reality, that no matter how gentle he may be, Astolfo had a strength like no other available to him.

“Pfft. I doubt it,” Mordred replied smugly. “You’re too weak, Astolfo. Sorry.”

“Not true!” Astolf stomped -- Fujimaru shivered. “Here, let me see them.”

“Okay.”

Really? That’s all you’re going to say?! Fujimura was dumbfounded by Mordred’s carelessness, so much so that they couldn’t vocalize a protest. They were traded from one hand to another, and right away were the differences noted. Mordred’s hands were strong, but reliable; they could trust the palms to remain steady. Astolfo’s hands were not so diligent, nor as firm. A soft troop of fingers entangled them like an object, and they were held in front of Astolfo’s beaming face just like one. While Fujimora squirmed in the net of fingers, Astolfo only smiled in glee.

“M-Master…! You’re so cute!” Astolfo cooed. He idly hopped up and down, unable to contain his excitement. Fujimaru bobbed more extremely along with him, making their resistances even less fruitful. It was better, so they found out, to accept that they were held, and to cling to Astolfo’s hands for safety. “Aww, are you hugging me? Master, y-you’re too much!”

Fujimaru sighed once Astolfo’s giddiness had been calmed, at least enough that he no longer was shaking. Astolfo was a kind spirit, and they had to remember that, even when Astolfo loomed over them like a monster they all would otherwise be warring against.

But that sanctuary was broken when Astolfo’s hands twisted to wrap around them again, this time with a certain precision. No longer were they just being held, but they were being trapped; both arms and legs were pinned by tentacle-like fingers. They couldn’t break free, not even out of Astolfo’s plush hands. A troubled feeling brewed in Fujimaru, but Astolfo just kept smiling, that adorable fang still peering from his lips like always.

“See, Mordred?” Astolfo laughed, glancing up at the other giant in the room. “They can’t move! They really can’t!”

“H-Hey, what are you doing?!” Fujimaru attempted again to free themself, but it was useless, a fact that did not rest easy on them.

Mordred came into view from above with a looming entrance. There was a glare that made her green eyes pierce into Fujimaru. “C’mon, Master, c’mon!” she urged. “I expect better than this, dammit! It’s Astolfo, for crying out loud.”

Astolfo giggled. He sang, “Master can’t beat Astolfo’s fingers~”

These passing insults, played out so immaturely, only inflamed Fujimaru’s spirit. They tried again, with all their strength mustered, but the most they could manage was a squirm. Astolfo’s grip was unforgiving, and he wasn’t even trying. All this effort left Fujimaru panting, exhausted after such worthless attempts just to have back their own autonomy.

“Hoho~ Getting worn out, Master? I’m sorry, am I being too mean~?” Astolfo hummed. This was all a game to him, and though his smile was as wide as it had been, something about its attitude had absolutely shifted. It could be sensed from his eyes, the way he looked at Fujimaru. He was tickled by how easily he could overpowered his own Master -- genuine amusement that made his breathing heavier and hotter.

“Ugh. This is shameful, Master,” Mordred commented. That disappointed look had appeared again, much to Fujimaru’s dismay. “How am I supposed to respect someone that can’t even break out of Astolfo’s grip?”

Fujimaru stuttered. They were mad, How can you judge me at a time like this?! I’m the size of a doll, of course I can’t overpower Astolfo! Yet they wouldn’t admit that aloud, knowing the humiliation that awaited. They were incapable of saying anything, only squeaks and grunts that came from their struggles.

“Ha! No longer can Master think that Astolfo is a weak spirit. Now, about those pets~” Astolfo prided himself and lifted a finger from his other hand. Fujimaru flinched as the forefinger and thumb approached, each limb that was as thick as a bulging arm reaching to stroke different parts of their body. A lone fingertip covered Fujimaru’s face and ruffled their hair, and at the same time, the other rubbed against their chest, up and down, hungrily feeling for its definition.

“Th-That t-tickles!” Fujimaru coughed, the result of a laugh held back that couldn’t be stopped. “Hah! Hey, hey, h-hey!” Their words didn’t matter as they were muffled behind Astolfo’s huge finger. Their gasp, however, could still be heard, an inhale pushed into them when they felt their crotch being touched again.

“Oh no,” Astolfo whispered. His light astonishment turned into excitement, his eyes knowing. “Master, do you like this? It certainly seems like you do…”

Fujimaru winced, a stuttering noise leaving their throat. Once again, their privacy was invaded by an assaulting finger, this time Astolfo’s. A new wave of shivers run over their body, all in yet another attempt at escape, but like all the others, it was in vain. Astolfo was free to feel at his Master’s crotch, or any part of their body, without concern of being stopped.

With actions being so fruitless, Fujimaru grew desperate. “Mordred!” they yelled, throwing their volcanic-red head back in a rush to find their other servant. They wondered what she could possibly be distracted with, since only moments ago she was so defensive of them. Though it was hard to make out at first, Fujimaru understood the puzzled look Mordred had hanging over them. She was intrigued, just staring at the scene play out with a partially open mouth, unable to look away at anything else. Is she enjoying this?! Fujimaru thought in their panic.

But their voice reached Mordred, and she shook her head like breaking out of a trance. “Hey, Astolfo! Ease up!” Mordred closed the small distance between them, both hands grappling Astolfo’s wrist. “Th-That’s fucked up! Too far!”

Mordred avoided just stealing her Master back, worried that such a hasty movement might instead hurt them in the struggle. To separate Astolfo from Fujimaru, she elected to pull down on his arm, bringing it and their Master away from his prodding hand and in between them. Their eyes locked, both expressing their own styles of frustration.

“You were doing this to them earlier, weren’t you?” Astolfo argued, looking down at Mordred. Their faces were only inches apart, bringing out the slight difference in height between them. “Why wasn’t it too far then?”

“I-I wasn’t doing that!” Mordred said. “And even if I was, well, i-it’s okay if I molest Master! They trust me!”

“Master trusts me, too! In fact, Master would much rather be molested by me! They’re probably afraid you might crush them.”

“We could both crush them! Besides, i-it’s my turn, alright?!”

“No way, it’s my turn to have Master!”

Fujimaru wanted to mention that they were both wrong, that they had previously agreed to split the job of handling them, but they decided not to. Even if they did want to speak, they realized, their voice surely wouldn’t be heard. Two titans were head-to-head arguing over who got to own them, and there they were, situated right in the middle of the behemoth bickering. It was an incredible scenario to be stuck in, to be desired on such a surreal scale, but it was equally terrifying.

Of all places to be held while they’re distracted like this… Fujimaru bit their lip. The argument rolled on much like it had, and they felt partially forgotten there, situated between two walls of abs. It was a feature both heroic spirits had, and Fujimaru was caught between the rows of muscles, midriffs exposed, while the titans talked. It was hypnotizing to admire the core of these huge bodies, absolutely impressed with how powerful their Servants were. To one side was Mordred’s abs, refined and plentiful like a rockwall, and to the other side was Astolfo’s, less pronounced but softer, like a mattress. Behind both of them, however, was the same thing: a stomach, a giant stomach, something Fujimaru feared to comprehend, something they had blissfully not thought about until only now.

Pulling Fujimaru’s focus away from their Servants’ physical attributes was the shakiness of their platform. Astolfo’s hand was wavering, or perhaps Mordred’s grasp on his wrist was getting heavier. Neither proved to be safe for their Master, who clung tightly to Astolfo’s palm as it shifted to an incline.

“A-Astolfo,” Fujimaru said. “Mordred! Anyone! Listen to me!”

But they didn’t. “You’re being unreasonable,” Mordred growled.

“You’re the one being greedy!” Astolfo laughed.

“Let Master decide, then!”

“Oh, that’s true. We could have them decide…”

Astolfo’s grip got weaker, provoking a gasp from Fujimaru. They wondered if Astolfo was intentionally doing this, if this was just part of their game. Was that better? To be purposefully toyed with, or to be abused by accident? Fujimaru was unpleasantly found in the middle of that dilemma, but it proved true that Astolfo was forgetful, as usual. Whatever flatness his hand had gave way all at once, and no scramble from Fujimaru could save themself from the drop below.

Only then did Mordred and Astolfo break from their argument, interrupted by the shout Fujimaru made. Both Servants stepped back in a hurry, afraid their Master had been hurt in all the confusion. They both muttered Fujimaru’s name with a crimson shock on their expressions, sights connected onto their Master, and where they had ended up.

Swift thinking had saved many mages before, and it had saved Fujimaru now -- but not from shame and embarrassment. Their fall was short, for they had grappled onto something as soon as they could. This newly found surface was hard and veiled behind a curtain-like fabric, a material that at least made it easier to grip. It wasn’t their choice that it had been Astolfo’s erect dick as their lifesaver, an impromptu rescuer that their small body weighed completely on. Like a log hanging off a cliff, the situation was barely less dangerous; from one perspective, it had in fact only gotten worse.

A laugh billowed over Fujimaru, when they expected and needed sympathy no less. “Master!” Astolfo chuckled. He was backing up, and like any of his movements, Fujimaru felt it. It forced their grip to become tighter, having to hug the huge dick for the sake of their life. “What are you doing, Master?! Do you need help?”

Yes! Yes, obviously! Fujimaru screamed mentally while their red face glared up at Astolfo. He was huge, intimidating to look up to, and their body froze where it was, stunned by the fact that this whole thing was Astolfo’s shaft rising from underneath his black skirt. They made a move to adjust their position, but that tickled Astolfo into a small jolt. How do I move like this? Anything I do is like… groping Astolfo’s--

If Astolfo’s laugh wasn’t enough of a burden, then Mordred’s scoffing was still overboard. Fujimaru flinched at her voice, feeling her eyes weigh heavy on them. She had squatted down, just enough so that her head was level with Astolfo’s groin. Fujimaru twisted to read her expression, but they knew what kind of face to expect.

“Really, Master?” Mordred sighed, her breath breezing over Fujimaru and, by extension, Astolfo’s lap. “You’ve chosen Astolfo…”

Fujimaru flinched again, baffled at this conclusion. Were neither of their Servants going to actually look out for their Master? Would these two perpetually fail to see how risky all this was for them, or were they perhaps just that confident? That was the impression building up on Fujimaru, especially with Mordred’s lean-in. She didn’t seem phased at all that she was within licking distance of the skirt-clad, half-mast dick, the same way Astolfo wasn’t bashful about his member being so prominent. Fujimaru shivered, a sensation the dick beneath them was sure to feel; it was more embarrassing to them that apparently only they thought anything weird of this circumstance, as though they were in the wrong for being dropped there.

Their wits finally returned to break up their astonishment. “I-I’m not choosing anything!” Fujimaru complained. “Astolfo--”

“Clearly you have, Master!” Astolfo cheered, making more space between himself and his current rival. His legs split apart more evenly, striking a pose that showed off the person dangling from his dick. He smiled down at his desire, his hands poking out from the long sleeves of his hoodie to nervously hide his expression. “You’ve made an excellent choice, Master! But you don’t have to be so forward~ You could have just told me this is what you wanted, haha!”

“This… This isn’t--”

“Master!” Mordred interrupted yet another explanation Fujimaru stuttered to voice. “You’re joking, right? You really want Astolfo’s cock? And do what?”

Fujimaru closed their eyes in humiliated frustration. What did Mordred mean by that?

As if hearing this silent question, Mordred continued. “You know you’re way too small for that, right? I mean, look at it, look! It’s twice your size!”

Mordred pointed firmly at the bulge Fujimaru was strapped to. She wasn’t lying, the shape that she could make from underneath the skirt implied a mass that dwarfed Fujimaru. Of course, this was something Fujimaru themself didn’t have the patience to think about. It was horrible enough they had been caught here, and to be insulted by two giants. Only worse was the fact that, in detail, the dick he was hugging was big, bigger than themself, and seemingly only getting bigger.

Mordred then prodded at the dick’s flank, nearby to where Fujimaru clung to. The weight of Astolfo’s equipment bobbed slightly, and Fujimaru slid down closer to the dick’s tip. “That’s just sad, Master,” Mordred muttered.

Astolfo winced at Mordred’s poke. He backed away from her, his gait faulty for how he considered Fujimaru’s predicament. Unlike their struggling to keep up a solid grip, Mordred’s single touch was not only noticeable, but formidable. Mordred could, with relative ease, actually get him off, but Fujimaru -- he smiled at them sweetly, unable to find all their movement along his dick to be anything more than adorable.

Both of Astolfo’s hands cupped underneath his lap, forming a safety net for Fujimaru to fall into. They did so, with every intent to escape such fantastical embarrassment, but the games were far from over. Astolfo perched at the edge of Mordred’s bed, as though making it his own, and the same hands that caught Fujimaru went on to drop them. Their body bounced into the plush mattress, and when they rose, they found the gigantic body they once latched onto had changed into a temple. Wall-like thighs, their roundness restrained by black leggings, surrounded Fujimaru, drawing their vision to beneath the canopy of a purple skirt. Only partially cast into shadow was the very beast Fujimaru had fallen onto. Packaged tightly behind both leggings and panties was Astolfo’s cock in its entirety, not at all hidden from view, sitting before them like an uncomfortable slump.

“You look so~ funny, Master!” Astolfo couldn’t stop giggling. His legs kicked off the bed playfully, this rocking motion making Fujimaru’s balance even less stable. One hand played with the hem of his skirt, slightly lifting it to allow more light into the cave it produced. Then, he lifted the skirt all the way, like a grand unveiling. Astolfo’s smile widened. “Go ahead! You may marvel at him! You have Astolfo’s permission!”

His tone of voice… He really is just playing around, Fujimaru deduced. Yet, despite this being on their mind, where else could they look? Their sides were encompassed by two giant thighs, and directly behind them was the edge of the bed. The only path was forward, in the direction of the slumbering monster that was Astolfo’s equipment, swelling up against all of its restraints. Astolfo’s voice, sugary and inviting, was a godly beckon for them to approach.

Fujimaru trembled. Their instincts, against all their reason, wanted to them to edge closer. How could I deny something so massive? They swallowed nervously, feeling their hands itch to reach towards the giant genitals.

A shadow fell over them suddenly, and in an instant, a massive object had crashed ahead of them. They caught a glimpse before blackness swallowed them, a glimpse of what fell like a meteoric attack on Astolfo’s crotch. Blue jean shorts and bare legs; it was Mordred’s ass, collapsing onto Astolfo’s lap with a thundering entrance.

Astolfo yelped, suddenly pinned under Mordred’s body. “W-What’s the big idea?! I’m sitting here!” Astolfo grunted. He squirmed, but he wasn’t forcing Mordred off.

“Yeah, you’re sittin’ on my bed!” Mordred argued, emphasizing her annoyed tone by pushing more of her backside into Astolfo. “Did you forget whose room you’re in, you freak?! I can sit wherever the hell I want, especially in my own place!”

“Y-You’re on me…!” Astolfo whined, as if that fact wasn’t clear. “A-And Master is…!”

Mordred blushed and folded her arms. “That’s their fault,” she spat, “th-they can deal with it…”

Fujimaru was the topic, yet they felt ignored all over again. From beneath the second body, Fujimaru had laid out flat along the mattress. The ceiling above -- Mordred’s crotch, as it were -- bounced with each of the woman’s movements. The two walls that had gone uncontested were suddenly squished by this immense weight, proving to be no barrier for a person of proportional size, but unsurmountable to someone so pathetically tiny. Two titans, two Servants that belonged to Fujimaru, were now grinding into each other as part of some competition for their favor. The warmth of such massive entities, the sound of their bodies massaging into each other, the scent of their aroused energies, was a chaos that terrified and enveloped Fujimaru, cowering beneath them.

Past the darkness that swallowed Fujimaru, they could witness an intriguing sight. Astolfo’s beast had been firm before, but it was getting harder. Mordred’s ass lifted and raised in teasing intervals, and each time its touch brought out more strength in Astolfo’s member. His arousal was so visible and defined, like a monster trying to break free from its restraints, at odds with the black leggings that stretched to contain it.

Yet, in reality, Astolfo’s horniness was far from rampant. There was a struggle, evident on his conflicted expression. “M-Mordred, you’re heavy…!” Astolfo panted. His hands hesitantly hovered around Mordred’s hips, not bold enough to grab at her in such a delicate area. “You’re so mean…!”

“You’re in my room, on my bed,” Mordred argued, her expression sour but still with a hint of redness. “If you’re gonna be here, then shut the fuck up and be a quiet pillow like the rest.” Mordred shoved backwards again, this time not just with her ass but with a solid push of her hand against Astolfo’s chest. It took twisting at an awkward angle, but with ease Mordred had Astolfo on his back. With space to spare, her rear took over this newly laid out territory, and she was seated less on his lap and more on his gut, a position that made it even more difficult for Astolfo to rise from.

All this shifting had left Fujimaru blinded. It wasn’t just the light that flooded in after Mordred moved, but the spectacle of the movement itself. The two ginormous bodies were mobile again, seemingly caught up in a one-sided war. Mordred was aggressive towards everyone, and Astolfo could be a floor mat; the outcome of their struggles was no surprise, yet Fujimaru was caught staring up at Mordred in awe, like a mortal gazing up at the power of a goddess.

Mordred’s tired expression was replaced with a bright and positive one as she looked down at her Master. “There you are! Heh, Astolfo was right about you looking funny…” She didn’t conceal her amusement at all, nor did she care that her words shamed Fujimaru into flinching. The humiliation was only starting; “Even his balls are bigger than you! I’m kind curious how you both measure up, actually…”

Fujimaru, still without a chance to protest, could only observe the scene unfold. Mordred rolled up Astolfo’s skirt, and those same fingers then dug into his leggings and underwear. Fujimaru rolled onto their back, sensing what was next. Mordred was removing those articles, stripping them down Astolfo’s legs and right over Fujimaru. Fujimaru bunkered into the mattress as a web of black fabric rushed past them, and when they looked up, Astolfo’s cock was gloriously exposed. No longer held back by such tight clothing, Astolfo’s member rose fully erect and his balls spilled outward into the crevice between his thighs.

As the leggings passed overhead, so did they leave behind a distinct smell. It was something that had been present all along, the scent of sweat that collected at Astolfo’s crotch. Now without a shield to contain it, the stench went public, but it wasn’t insulting; Fujimaru had to admit, there was a sadistic allure to being treated to something so involuntary yet intensely personal. As a bonus, they were sure, neither giant were likely aware of this detail, too big to notice how their own scents were overpowering.

Astolfo’s erection was a monster, and Mordred’s hand was its leash. Her fingers coiled around the shaft, her invasive touch resulting in a wave of shivers that rode down Astolfo’s body. Fujimaru could hear a squeak from Astolfo, regardless of the mountain range between them and his voice. Mordred’s presence was even more awe-inspiring, situated behind and above Astolfo’s cock. The crotch of her shorts was tantalizingly near the erection; Fujimaru even had glimpses of Mordred’s most upper points of her thigh, a softness exposed by the way her legs were spread apart around Astolfo’s lower half. At her midriff was where Astolfo’s dick peaked, its distance being traveled up and down slowly by Mordred’s grip.

“Haaah! M-Mordred, s-seriously…!” Astolfo squirmed, as much as his body could under Mordred’s weight. His struggling didn’t affect Mordred at all. “You’re embarrassing me… i-in front of Master, no less…!”

“Serves you right for acting like a hot shot,” Mordred mocked. She didn’t pay much attention to Astolfo’s moaning. “Master, come here. Come stand next to it! His penis really isn’t that big! I’m sure you’ll feel less scared of it if you just got a good look.”

Fujimaru, only then finally able to stand on two feet, could have buckled over again had the chaos not already numbed them. A smile was cracked over top of their surprise. “I am not doing that, Mordred,” they firmly stated. If this was Mordred’s sense of humor, Fujimaru was not entertained. Anxiety had them chuckling to cope, “I’m good. I’m fine right here. In fact, why don’t we--”

“C’mon, you’re so annoying!” Mordred grinned, still acting buddy-buddy towards her belittled Master. Brutishly, she grabbed Fujimaru between her fingers; against their wishes, she would see the two compared. Fujimaru was forced next to the cock they had once held, angled to look directly at the proud pillar. Their body quivered; it was easily as large as the very beasts these Servants were summoned to vanquish, and it was a cruel detail that it was just Astolfo’s penis -- of all penises, kind and generous Astolfo’s.

No descriptor fit for Astolfo could relate to his cock, not when it stood so powerful over Fujimaru. They hadn’t seen the true volume of Astolfo’s shaft; now that it could stretch freely, unhampered by tight leggings or panties, it exposed itself in its entirety. Just as true was that it was now fully erect, its maximum height reached. Fujimaru gasped looking the thing over, but Mordred only hummed in delight.

“Whoa, maybe Astolfo’s pretty big compared to you,” she commented. “His dick is twice your size. Maybe three times your size, actually.” The hand groping at Astolfo released him, and at the same time, Fujimaru was placed next to it, balanced on top of his sack where the two parts met. In this position, it was even more clear how much bigger Astolfo’s dick was to Fujimaru’s whole self, a measurement they couldn’t immediately comprehend as they struggled just to stand in such a private bodily location. Instead, Mordred was the one to share this knowledge with another laugh, “Wow! Yeah, three of you couldn’t even tackle Astolfo’s dick. You have to take this curse seriously, Master! What if an enemy attacked you, and you can’t even fight off Astolfo’s puny dick?”

Fujimaru froze even more tightly than they had been. They were being chastised by Mordred for being irresponsible, while she sat on Astolfo’s stomach and stroked him off in a theater-sized display of perversion right in front of them. That’s more insulting than any of this, they thought.

Mordred’s hand moved again, rubbing down the length of Astolfo’s dick and then back up again in a steady rhythm. She was priming it idly, her actual concerns focused only on Fujimaru. Regardless of how carefree and half-hearted her actions were, the force behind her movement was amplified when right next to Fujimaru. They found themself cowering beneath both, well aware that either Astolfo’s dick or Mordred’s hand had enough power behind them to crush them flat -- and here they were, entangled in a tense ritual.

“Astolfo clearly only has perverted ideas,” Mordred said, her head lowering slightly to speak down even more clearly to Fujimaru. “Let’s rub him off so he’ll bug us less, yeah?”

“R-Rub him off?” Fujimaru stammered that one phrase back. They glanced over at the dick, the way it throbbed in Mordred’s unloving grip. “I couldn’t… I-I won’t!”

“Master, you’re so weak…” Mordred’s expression was bitter. “Where’s your fighting spirit? Astolfo is super easy to jerk off. I wish you could see his face, ha!” She turned, taking it upon herself to enjoy the sight where Fujimaru couldn’t. Her snideness beamed clearly down onto Astolfo as she twisted only her head back to look at her seat. He was torn between the push of ecstasy and lust, and the pull of shame and hesitation, and that was easy to read upon him. His lips released little hot breaths and his fingers clutched at the bedsheets. “Yeah? You enjoying this, ya’ freak?” Mordred chuckled. “A pathetic Servant like you should feel blessed to have his tiny Master on his balls.”

“M-Master…!” Astolfo squeaked, a voice that was choked by another pull of Mordred’s hand. He was under her control, but the submission was so exciting, especially as he relished how his Master was, indeed, partaking in all this. He was embarrassed to be seen like this, abused underneath another Servant, all while their shared Master looked on.

But Fujimaru was not a passive audience, not for long. They were knocked off their feet and forced deeper into Astolfo’s ballsack, a pillowy surface that would have welcomed their diminutive size with or without Mordred’s help. But Mordred was involved, the cause of this; her other hand grappled around Astolfo’s balls, and with them was Fujimaru, pinned against their will. The scent had already been harsh, but when shoved even closer, it jumped to overbearing. So little air, too, made the experience suffocating, and Mordred was merciless in how she didn’t understand the severity of Fujimaru’s panicked writhing.

Instead, she translated her Master’s squirms as attempts to help. Any cries for her to stop were muffled into Astolfo’s most private skin. She only smiled, like a job well done. “Yeah yeah, you get it now!” Mordred giggled. “Just tickle him and get him off! This will be over with as soon as he cums, I bet.”

“C-Cum?!” Astolfo gasped, a mighty breath considering he was being sat upon. “H-Hold on! Wait, M-Morded, erk…!” One eye closed as part of a flinch, and his lips shivered around the bit of noise he produced. He really could feel his Master, thrashing about with all their strength in a futile and frankly funny attempt at escape. As badly as Astolfo wanted to spare Fujimaru the disgrace of being used like a toy, so too did he want to settle into this thrilling adventure, to enjoy the arousal his Master was unwillingly causing.

It was only by chance that Fujimaru had a window of freedom, a literal opening to break free. As Mordred massaged Astolfo’s cock with both hands, Fujimaru was looking for opportunities to catch his breath, when finally Mordred’s movements allowed them that privilege. A deep inhale was cherished, and they fought to grapple their way out of Mordred’s clutches, tugging at a fold of loose skin.

“Mordred!” Fujimaru yelled. “E-Enough!”

“All the way, Master! That’s the spirit!” Mordred mistook this one command Fujimaru had been struggling to shout upwards. Rather than letting go of Astolfo’s equipment, her grip changed so that both hands were locked around the stick, and of course, Fujimaru was dragged along, suspended and strangled in the middle. The rest of Mordred’s position changed as well, her ass sliding up Astolfo’s chest until it was against his chin, and her face lowered to be just above his waist, practically laying on top of Astolfo upside-down.

Astolfo squirmed under Mordred’s body. His hands reached aimlessly for support, eventually finding a hold on Mordred’s waist with one. “W-What are you two doing?!” Astolfo moaned. “I can’t… take this…!” His other hand came to his face, where Mordred’s rear was prominent. Boldly, he grabbed at her ass with his free hand, a weak attempt to shove it aside.

“H-Hey!” Mordred perked up, her face stricken with a new shade of red. “C’mon, Master, we’ll put this bastard in his place.”

Fujimaru feared what that meant, and their worries were well justified. They had virtually no influence over matters now, grappled against Astolfo’s dick by Mordred’s unstoppable hand. The mechanical motion of Mordred’s stroking had begun again with more vigor. As such, Fujimaru’s body was dragged along with each beat; up, then down, then up, then down, then up -- the ups were the worst half, so Fujimaru had discovered, where Mordred was specifically aiming to accomplish her task.

“You’re doing good, Master!” Mordred praised. “Maybe Astolfo was right, actually… You might be sort of into this.”

This was far from the situation Fujimaru wanted to be appreciated for, no less because they were starting to believe their Servants to be correct. It was painful and humiliating, but this was an experience like no other. No one could not be turned on by this, right? they had to tell themself, their own arousal rising. Their crotch, undeniably, was rocking against Astolfo’s intimidating shaft, forced into it by Mordred’s demanding fingers just like the rest of their figure. They wanted this to end, their own captivation proving to be just as dangerous as Mordred or Astolfo’s curiosity.

Echoing in their mind like a hypnotic spell was Mordred’s statement. If this torture-pleasure combination was going to end by the ring of Astolfo’s bell, then it was tactically wise to pursue that goal. Of course, that was more easily said than done; Fujimaru had little room to move much less to try to help the massive member meet release. All they could do was bring out their tongue and offer their worship, a minimal addition but the most they could muster.

And even that had a mental hurdle to bound over. They felt more pathetic than ever, strangled against Astolfo’s cock and yet miserably trying to lick at it. Their tongue was nothing compared to the boner that belittled them, nothing to the huge palms that handled them. Despite this, they tried, while suspended near the tip. Their tongue stretched outward and their head nuzzled into the meat of Astolfo’s dick, sliding along a vein as thick as their arms. The unmistakable taste filled their mouth, but a detonation of flavor had yet to reach them.

“Ahaha! Oh man, he’s starting to cum a little!” Mordred said, leaning in even closer. “Master, Master, look!”

Precum had begun to form out of the penis’s tip, which still stood a head higher than Fujimaru was held. Was it their licking that had made Astolfo shiver like this, or was it just the conclusion of Mordred’s nonstop stroking? Whatever the case may be, that one bead stemming from all their efforts was a complete load for Fujimaru, unable to turn towards anything else. It dribbled from the slit, and down the front of its shaft did it start to travel, right onto Fujimaru. A droplet, like dew off grass, melted onto Astolfo’s Master with its sticky wetness.

Fujimaru squirmed intensely, trying anew to break out of Mordred’s grasp. There was a real fear that they could drown like this, but at odds with that horror was Mordred’s laughter, again bellowing from above. “This is a riot!” she giggled. “It’s all over you, Master! … Ew, yuck!” She jumped up -- Astolfo heaved as her weight slammed onto him, and Fujimaru was dropped altogether. “You got some on my hand, Astolfo!”

Fujimaru tried to collect themself, now finally free from Mordred’s grasp, but they were blitzed and dazed. Cum was still fresh on their head and shoulders, and the drop had only made them dizzier. Mordred’s movements didn’t help; she stood up, lifting off of Astolfo and right off the bed. Fujimaru watched as she bent forward; they flinched hard, expecting Mordred’s ass to come crashing down on them again. Instead, all she did was grab Astolfo’s discarded leggings, and used them as a wipe for the minuscule amount of cum that grazed her fingers.

That’s her limit? Fujimaru thought, still trying to make sense of everything. I almost died, and she’s that upset because of a little precum…?

Fujimaru was grateful for any peace, no matter how brief, but they did wish it would have lasted longer. A beat after Mordred had removed herself, they felt the weight of another predator. Astolfo had sat up, relieved to have Mordred off of him finally, but his expression was weary, defeated, yet shaking for more. His panting morphed into a devilish smile, teased by the view: his beloved Master, beaten and exhausted, laying before his relatively gigantic dick. They were totally helpless before his strength, a tickling thought that made his heart pound.

Fujimaru flipped onto their back, sliding further from the boner and its monumental stance. Even taller than it was the mountain that was Astolfo, a craving look in his eyes signalling that he wasn’t content. Perhaps, even far from it.

“Master… I-I have to cum on you…” Such blatant desires came from Astolfo, his expression descending into a primal hunger.

“Y-You don’t have to!” Fujimaru argued. They were quick in their hopes to prevent more humiliation -- they were so close to being over with this. “Astolfo, as your Master, I--”

They coughed, Astolfo’s hand clenching around them. Their whole body was abducted into his grasp, brought out from between his thighs and into the open air to be observed. Astolfo breathed over them, “You don’t understand anything, Master… I-It’s bad… I have to get off on you!”

Astolfo laid down, a whirlwind movement for Fujimaru to adapt to, but the grip they were locked into was incredibly sturdy. No matter how Astolfo whipped around, Fujimaru was sure to be held in place, truly handled like an object. Astolfo lay stretched out across Mordred’s bed conventionally, his knees perked up and his dick erect like it had been. In his hands, he positioned Fujimaru so that they were trapped, their arms pinched back so that only their legs could kick in resistance.

“You’re precious, Master~ I want to do all sorts of things to you…” He held Fujimaru over him; if his Master shook themself loose, they would fall dangerously close to the drooling mouth of their Servant. “I felt you earlier… You licked me!” He giggled and stuck his tongue out teasingly. “If Master is going to start licking their Servants… then it’s okay if I do something, too.”

Fujimura protested, it was one of the few times they were allowed the freedom to try and convince one of these giants to stop, but Astolfo was too far gone in his own desires to care. In fact, he loved the struggle, he loved the feeling of Fujimaru trying so desperately to pry away, and how that only intensified as his fingers pinched at one of their legs.

Astolfo was to the point. He stripped Fujimaru’s legs bare, tearing the tiny fabric where it had to be. Fujimaru shrieked, responding just as much to the cold as they were to the shame of being exposed. Immediately, Astolfo laughed, “You’re so small! You’re an embarrassing Master!” He proceeded to derobe Fujimaru, tugging off their shirt and everything else, until they were naked.

Fujimaru felt entirely helpless. Vulnerable was too short a descriptor for their predicament, for how they toiled against these odds. They had lost not just their size, and not just their clothes, but even the respect of their beloved Servants. They shuddered into Astolfo’s hand, knowing that while this champion was a threat to their safety, they were also the only being they could rely on.

Astolfo knew this, his grin told as much. His eyes had remained steady on one aspect of their love, and his free hand eventually pointed it out. “Are you actually that scared?” he asked sarcastically. “You look very comfortable, Master! You must not mind being bullied by such a weak Servant!”

Fujimaru flinched; they could cry, if they had a weaker will. Was begging for this to stop even worth the yelling? And did they even want this to be interrupted? The redness taking over their exposed body suggested they didn’t; as horrible as the experience was, the promise of an otherworldly climax seemed like a well-deserved reward for their endurance. As such, the only reply they had for Astolfo was a twist in their expression, a restrained but begging look flickering in their eyes.

Using his free hand, Astolfo brought forth the end of his ponytail. He pinched the pink fluff at the tip of the braid like a brush aimed forward. With it, he tickled Fujimaru’s body with small strokes, but it was more than enough to make Fujimaru twist with bouts of giggles. The aroma of Astolfo’s hair was fruity and sweet, it was a smell identifiable to Astolfo alone. Fujimaru recognized it, and that along with the light touches had made the burning inside them grow hotter.

“Eh? All I’m doing is brushing you with my hair…” Astolfo’s face was innocent, not so taken over by perversion like it had. “Does it really excite you that much? Do you want more?”

Fujimaru cringed, their teeth tightly clenched in their mouth. Don’t make me say it out loud, they begged. But Astolfo wanted exactly that, they understood that much. It seemed all too easy to slip and say something so unbecoming of a mage of their stature, but their reaction seemed like it was an impossible task. They badly wanted to get off now, if only to relieve themselves of the agony of being so turned on.

Astolfo’s head neared closer, and Fujimaru flinched by raising their feet up. That smile, Astolfo’s iconic smile, was only a stretch away. Even the hint of his breath could be made out, flaring Fujimaru’s nostrils. There was a notable anticipation, like a piece of food being looked over.

“Will one kiss make you cum?” Astolfo wondered aloud. He loved the way his words made Fujimaru quake. “You would have to do a lot more to make me cum, you know. I don’t know if such a sad Master even deserves to be treated so nicely…”

“P-Please…!” Fujimaru stammered. It was all they could choke out. Any more would be too shameful, and any less would earn them nothing. Whether it be the mercy of being set aside or the mercy of getting off, Fujimaru would accept anything from Astolfo, a sentiment Astolfo sensed.

Astolfo licked his lips, the last of his coy expressions before his demeanor lost its control once again. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Mordred in the corner of his vision. She had been nearly forgotten by Astolfo, a testament of Astolfo’s awareness, but she had made her attendance quite clear. She charged into his field of view from in front of him, climbing into bed and over his lap. Her face was bright with an emotion that scared Astolfo as much as it did Fujimaru.

“Did ya’ forget about me or somethin’?! I should gut you!” she snarled.

“O-Ohhoh, Miss Mordred!” Astolfo replied, his formality shaking. “Of course not, not at all! I-I hadn’t--”

“Not you,” Mordred scoffed, “you.” Her nose pointed directly at Fujimaru -- or rather, where they had been. Astolfo discovered just as well that Fujimaru was no longer pinched between his fingers like a delicacy. Tumbled and tossed, Fujimaru gracelessly found themselves on flat land, that of Astolfo’s chest, framed by the purple and white of his tank top.

A darkness that felt somehow familiar lay over Fujimaru. Opposite of the world they were dropped on was the world of Mordred, her body a ceiling not that far away, yet it hung with the weight of the sky. Fujimaru trembled appropriately, sliding back along Astolfo’s shirt, paranoid that Mordred could come crashing down on them at any moment -- especially after such a threat.

“Master! You’re disgusting!” Mordred said. “Y-You were just going to let Astolfo abuse you?! You got naked for him?!”

Fujimaru opened only one eye to meet Mordred. They apparently had to explain themself for having become nude -- which, only then, did Fujimaru realize that the same could be said of Mordred. She was naked, just like themself, and without any explanation.

Astolfo gasped, perhaps more surprised than his Master over Mordred’s striking nudity. “Wha-Wha…! Wh-What’s the meaning of this?!”

“F-Fuck off!” Mordred barked, her skin redder by the second. “I was just… I-It’s my room! I can do what I want! And I ain’t letting you just do what you want with Master! You’re too mean!”

The horizons of their bodies met before Fujimaru, hugging together like two landscapes combining. They flinched, but they were not overtaken. Ahead of them were two soft hills of flesh that squished into Astolfo’s torso, forming a cleavage that pointed up to Mordred’s hanging head, a lopsided toss of blonde hair also cast into view.

“Both of you need to get your heads straight!” Mordred disciplined. “Master, i-if I didn’t know any better, you almost gave into this bastard! It’s because I got you worked up, right?” She sighed, truly taking responsibility onto herself. “Fine! Do what you want down there, I’ll take care of him.”

“What?” Fujimaru exclaimed. “What does any of that mean?”

Mordred growled. Out of impatience, she slightly raised and then bounced herself off Astolfo’s body. Astolfo whined, but it was Fujimaru that was tossed forward, nudged closer to Mordred’s cleavage. “Just enjoy my tits,” she bashfully explained, “and I’ll get Astolfo off so he’ll leave us alone…”

“J-Just a moment!” Astolfo chuckled, bringing up a hand defensively. “Isn’t this all happening a little--”

Like a bite, Mordred lunged forward and attacked Astolfo’s lips with her own. The sight was monstrous above Fujimaru, something out of a movie, where two enormous monsters trade climactic blows. Mordred carried all the advantage, striking down on Astolfo’s head, but as awesome as the sight was, it was cut to black. Mordred’s body had rushed forward, and so to did her breasts, a wave of skin that swallowed Fujimaru into its cleavage.

The atmosphere was volcanic. Mordred and Astolfo’s titanic bodies together created a tremendous heat that enveloped Fujimaru between them. Their masses fought against each other, careless of their Master’s struggles in the middle, continuing to rock back and forth. Even their heartbeats could be heard, throbbing from within their huge bodies at a pounding pace. It truly did feel as though Fujimaru was in the midst of an eruption, a feeling their own body was instinctively sharing in. Every desperate inhale was taking in the humid sweat generated by Mordred and Astolfo, as though the excitement of these lustful giants was being passed directly onto their tiny Master.

Mordred was simply sharing a kiss, a forceful one that was successful in shutting down Astolfo. Her tongue battled his, a one-sided fight where Mordred reigned supreme. Her tongue dragged from deep within Astolfo’s mouth and lifted away from it with almost the same force. Astolfo gasped, peeked up at Mordred, and she spat on him. Over his face was a splatter of saliva, a mix of his and her own. Again, he opened his eyes, this time greeted by Mordred’s scowl.

“You taste terrible,” Mordred huffed. Then, she smiled. “It’s good I saved Master from you.”

Fujimaru had escaped, or been allowed free -- whichever it was, they couldn’t tell. They enjoyed the break from chaos regardless, though while it gave them time to recover, they also had time to realize how fatigued they were. I can’t keep up with them forever, they despaired. The stamina of these two… Is it really just because I’m so small?

The two massive bodies were moving again. Fujimaru bunkered in preparation, but still kept an eye out to survey the changes. Mordred, sitting tall over Astolfo, reached down and grabbed the giant by his wrists, pressing down on them into the mattress. Mordred’s body hung close to Fujimaru once again, her bare chest directly over them. Her nipples swayed from the motion, each one bigger than any fist Fujimaru could coil, pointed from breasts that had already proven to have the potential to devour them, even with their relatively small size.

A squeak was forced out of Astolfo. The adorable noise was provoked when Mordred maneuvered her rear so that it nudged into his erection. An attempt to flinch was made, but Mordred had him pinned well. His shivering and shaking only excited Mordred, an involuntary compliment to her strength that she joyfully accepted. Even if it was Astolfo and her shrunken Master, being the strongest in the room gave her a rush of confidence, and she exerted that on the two beneath her.

“Master… Don’t just sit there,” she told Fujimaru. Her smile had reverted to a grimace. “Idiot. Are my tits not good enough, huh?”

Fujimaru found themself only able to stutter once again. “Th-That’s not it,” they tried to say, still unsure of what they could actually say. Such a surreal experience couldn’t warrant a conventional response, certainly not when they were struggling to breathe or even remain conscious. Now, all of a sudden, they had to have an opinion on Mordred’s breasts, the same breasts that had been swallowing them alive.

“Tch… You really just don’t understand…” Mordred groaned and rolled her head around. “Look, I’m kinda getting hot here, too. Are you just too tiny to do anything for me?”

Fujimaru blinked. Was this Mordred’s way of being horny? As baffling as it was, it seemed just like her. Still, the comment stung with its insult, burned by yet another reminder that at their size, they could do so little, even please one of their own Servants.

Mordred’s eyes left Fujimaru and went to Astolfo. His expression was pathetic, panting delicately with steamy breaths, his cheeks warm and pink. He could burst at any moment, Mordred sensed, and like a wolf smelling blood, she sicked herself onto her prey.

Fujimaru braced for impact -- another dynamite kiss, a collision of two mouths. Mordred threw herself onto Astolfo, forward enough that it made him moan from a mix of pain and pleasure. Her tongue ate at Astolfo in a demanding dance, licking at his soft lips, the ridges of his teeth, and naturally twisting around the tongue opposite of her. She inhaled from her nose and exhaled into Astolfo, establishing her dominance both in and out of the fellow Servant.

And all the while, she felt Fujimaru fidgeting under her weight. She applied almost all of it down onto Astolfo’s torso, occasionally lifting up to either push her ass against the cock behind her or to nibble around his neck. Frequent giggles sang from her, a tune Fujimaru could hear a deep, inner version of from between the two bodies. Their only defense against the massive rocking movements was to cling to Astolfo’s shirt, but one good lunge forward was all it took to dislodge Fujimaru from their hold. They were flipped upside-down, their front now taking the full weight of Mordred’s breasts, a softness that sank all around them in a warm, all-encompassing embrace. Push and kick as hard as they could, as hard as they ever had in their life, it was all for nothing, not even an itch-level reaction from Mordred.

Everything had stopped. Not entirely; Fujimaru still felt the thumping of two huge hearts, beating almost in unison despite their frantic rhythms. But Mordred had ceased moving, and Fujimaru was in the dark. They weren’t aware that Mordred had come to a slow, to dedicate more time to eating out Astolfo’s mouth, to slowly caress his shaft with the tips of her fingers. If her mouth ever left Astolfo’s, a cute babble of sounds was sure to follow, leaking from Astolfo in the form of exasperated whines.

Mordred rose, but she carried back with her an arm wrapped over her breasts, with Fujimaru strategically caught in the middle. Fujimaru scrambled to find where gravity was headed, blinded within the squashed darkness of Mordred’s cleavage. They basically swam between the cushiony mounds until they felt the breeze of air touch a throw of their arm. They surfaced, and their prize for not suffocating between Mordred’s breasts was her expectant expression, her coy smile that oozed with amusement and eroticism.

Fujimaru felt suspended, and had good reason. Like waiting at the peak of a rollercoaster, they knew something was about to unfold, Mordred’s aura said as much. But she said nothing, her mind too flustered with her own private thoughts. She just acted; she aimed Astolfo’s dick from beneath her, then dropped on top of it.

The world shook around Fujimaru. It wasn’t quite like an earthquake, but like a soft car crash. All at once, the walls that held Fujimaru in place had lost all support, they fell freely down the short drop it took for Mordred to devour Astolfo’s member deep inside of her. In sync with her own subdued moan, her breasts stopped with a bounce. Fujimaru was pulled deeper into the cleavage that bound them, eating away at the progress they had to made to escape. Just as they climbed up again, crudely clawing at Mordred’s skin for support, everything suddenly began to rise. This, too, was a movement that wanted to see Fujimaru swallowed into Mordred’s chest.

Mordred was keen on these results. Not only was she maintaining a personal connection with her Master, but Astolfo’s increased shivering and panting brought her life. He looked miserable, just as helpless as the tiny person between her boobs. She wanted more, and she would have more. She dropped again, even faster and harder than before. Astolfo was forced deep inside of her, his member devoured by her pussy much the same way his mouth had been invaded earlier. She lifted up at half the speed she fell, the most tantalizing pace that wanted to draw out Astolfo’s spirit from his readied spout.

Over and over again, Fujimaru had less and less time between drops to collect themself and return to the sanctuary they only once briefly had. Everytime, they yelled in fright just as Mordred lowered herself, always hit hard by the impact of her equally-sudden halt. Fujimaru was beaten and bruised over the course of such an extreme ritual -- being picked up, thrown down, and picked up again, and again, and again. Between laps, Fujimaru always hoped the same thing, This has to be it, they would think, one of them has to cum! For as embarrassing as it was, their fate truly did exist on the balance of a giant-sized orgasm, an image that, despite everything, was on the forefront of their mind.

After one of the drop’s, under the sound of a long, heavy moan, Fujimaru felt the tickle of fresh air at their bare feet. They gasped with a new tone, surprised by something different. They were about to fall, they had just figured out, and Mordred -- could Mordred even hear them? Was it even worth shouting up to her?

Their voice bubbled to try, deciding they had to at least try, but all at once, the little bit of security Fujimaru had was gone. It vanished, all because Mordred’s arm grew tired of being there. She had lost her mind in the sex, forgetting about Fujimaru as she become more invested in the dick inside her. Thus, Fujimaru fell, dislodged from Mordred’s breasts and launched directly down, back down onto Astolfo where they tumbled onto his gut, rising and lowering with each breath.

A wet, slick sound frightened Fujimaru into looking up. Right in front of them, the source of a noise that sounded like tearing, was an enlarged rod, unveiled by a slobbering maw that left behind a trace of their ooze. Fujimaru could feel pulses beneath them, all around them, pulses of adrenaline that were directed right to the god-like cock whose tip was still in the grasp of Mordred’s cunt. Then, without warning, Mordred collapsed down again, and Astolfo’s dick was eaten, taken inside the moist monster like an object meant just for her. Now at the base of their interactions, Fujimaru could directly experience the magnitude of such titanic forces; so much raw power, the strength to easily obliterate entire armies, and it was all dedicated to an unabashed act of lust.

Fujimaru was humbled between the two gods. They awed, sitting there on their hands and knees, at the monument that was Astolfo’s member being devoured again and again by Mordred’s hole. They were just an observer, a worshipper that came to pray in front of phallic temples, and their offering was their own sexual energy. Naked and surrounded by the musk of these two giants going at each other, they found no self-control, no doubts in their desires. They masturbated, furiously and pathetically, like an envious onlooker.

How could they not succumb to this? Like a divine order, they were obligated to appreciate and honor the beauty of their two Servants, their unstoppable bodies melded together as one in an earth shattering act. As right as it felt, so too did Fujimaru feel wrong for this. They apologized, even as they caressed themself, feeling entirely unworthy to be a witness. Their mind had been crushed, willing to accept and adapt to this new lifestyle as little more than a tiny, perverted pet that sneakily jacked off to their Servants’ escapades.

All the while, Mordred’s pace had only gotten faster without losing any of the appealing stretches and pulls. Astolfo was at his wit’s ends, his back arching forward and then back in a spasm of excitement. Their tongue was ungracefully wet, and faint eyes gazed vaguely up to the ceiling. Mordred huffed, but kept up with her own speed. She was efficient in getting what she wanted, always keeping her pleasure on the rise while hardly breaking a sweat from all the work.

“Hah… M-Mordred…!” Astolfo shivered. He pulsated, his next words choked as Mordred withdrew her pussy from around Astolfo’s cock.

“Sh-Shut up…” Mordred replied, not hiding her annoyance. She glanced down at Astolfo, and right away realized that this was the end. She glared, “Ew! You better not cum in me!”

As if those words were the trigger, Astolfo could hold back no longer. He gasped sweetly, a high-pitched tone signalling his release. Mordred had responded swiftly, bringing an end to her grinding motions as to avoid the upcoming burst of cum. Angrily, she grabbed Astolfo’s dick and pointed it straight up his body, deciding that if Astolfo was going to orgasm, he would make a mess over himself before leaving his essence anywhere else.

Mordred looked down, disgust already painted on her face. “Gross,” she whined, studying the splash of white that had been ejaculated onto Astolfo. Her eyes widened in shock -- “M-Master!”

Fujimaru had collapsed onto Astolfo’s stomach, their naked body red with arousal, when they had looked up to see a cannon of a dick taking aim right at them. Their prayers had been answered, but nothing felt holy about the situation. Fujimaru shivered weakly, paralyzed beneath the reality that they couldn’t dodge what was ahead. The floodgates broke, all the pressure built up inside Astolfo’s cock was unleashed, and his fluids ejected out of the slit in an unforgiving wave of white. There was no standing against it; Fujimaru’s body, already fragile and battered, was pushed back by the force of Astolfo’s orgasm, toppled behind themself and left surrounded in a humiliating puddle of stickiness.

Every part of them was covered, from head to toe, in Astofo’s cum. Under their arms, between their legs, over their chests, and -- frustratingly -- masked over their face. Even just rising out of the glop of jizz proved difficult, the weight of the cum wanting to keep Fujimaru sunk just as much as their despair wanted them to forfeit everything. The longer they stayed down, the easier it became to accept this lowly existence as a Master that bathed in the fresh cum of their Servants.

Finally risen to their knees -- the furthest they could get on their own -- Fujimaru looked down. They saw their body, soaking wet in a flood of semen. Somewhere in all that, Fujimaru had climaxed, too. Who cares? they thought. I’m nothing to them.

They gasped, a mouthful of the cum’s scent quickly causing them to gag in the midst of being picked up. It was a crude grasp that abducted them, their left leg pinched and pulled towards the sky. Held upside-down, they had no energy to argue with however they were treated by whomever. When they wiped the fluid away from their eyes, they were no more surprised to see Mordred staring at their helpless form than had it been Astolfo.

“Oh, shit!” Mordred said, concerned at first until her voice cracked into a laugh. “Oh, man! You look nasty, Master!” She shook Fujimaru, displeased by the long pause. “Hey, hey. You’re not dead, are you? Don’t tell me Astolfo killed you with his cum.”

Fujimaru quaked, vaguely stretching out in any direction to signal that they hadn’t been killed. This inspired another laugh from Mordred, clearly amused by how pathetic her Master looked.

“After all that trouble, you still got cummed on… My bad! Don’t be so angry, alright?” Mordred sat down nonchalantly, her ass slamming into Astolfo’s stomach. Astolfo whined, but his stamina was too drained to even complain. “When did you get down there, anyway? I had you in my tits, what the hell happened?”

“I… I fell…” Fujimaru mumbled weakly. They figured it unhelpful to tell Mordred the whole truth, that her blissfulness lead her to dropping them.

All the same, Mordred shrugged. “You’ll find any excuse to get away from my boobs, huh?” Her teasing came with a smile. Picking on her Master was fun, but she knew that even they had their limits. She placed Fujimaru delicately into her other hand, allowing them to lay there as she got off the bed and lowered herself to the carpet. Mordred released Fujimaru there, adjacent to the pile of clothes her and Astolfo had since discarded. Fujimaru stood in confusion, helplessly looking back and forth between the fabric mound and the bare feet of Mordred’s that stood right in front of them.

“You look beat the hell up! Like we just got out of a fight! I like that, but you look like shit right now, honestly.” Mordred climbed back into bed, uncaring to the way she trampled over Astolfo. He laid there with little movement, nothing more than twitches. “I-I still need to finish up here,” Mordred blushed, “so just wipe yourself off on Astolfo’s leggings or something, okay? That’s what I did.”

“F-Finish up?” Astolfo groaned, partly lifting himself up from Mordred’s pillow. He grinned nervously, clearly put out. “Y-You’re still not done?”

“Hell no!” Mordred flipped right back to aggressive, and Fujimaru witnessed from their low angle the sight of Mordred slamming down on him. Two tones of giggles mixed, and the sounds of their fun began anew.

As a distant onlooker to the two titans wrestling intimately with each other again, Fujimaru felt cold and abandoned. Yet, they were finally capable of sighing in relief, a true relief. Survival was sweet. The dangers of being at the mercy of two rambunctious heroic spirits while only a few inches tall had proven to be tangible. They had been demeaned, especially as the Master of these two chaotic Servants. Humiliation could only begin to describe their experience as a sex toy fought over by two impossible powers, and to add insult to injury, they had been evicted from the apocalyptic love-making like a nuisance, and told to find shelter among their discarded clothes, scattered lazily around the cold floor. Fujimaru obediently followed Mordred’s advice under the low rumble of the two loving giants.