The Village Heroine

Trish and her mother were doing the dishes together at the sink. Trish would soap and scrub, and her mother would rinse and dry them. Through the window, they saw their neighbor stumble out of the forest.

Trish gasped at the sight. Their neighbor Lars looked drained, exhausted, and more than that, the swarthy lumberjack had been transformed. His rugged pants sat differently on his hips and thighs. The buttoned shirt could hardly stay buttoned across his now-buxom chest. The full beard he'd had yesterday was gone without a trace that it had ever been there.

Trish knew at a glance what had happened to Lars. Same thing that happened to so many of the village's men. They got lured into the depths of the forest for a night of passion with the witch, and they came back changed. As female as if they'd been born that way, and already carrying a child.

Trish felt a twinge of envy at the idea; motherhood wasn't in the cards for a trans woman like her. At the same time, she knew that wasn't entirely fair.

"How could he! Following that witch into the forest, when he has Lila at home, due to give birth any day now," Trish said, venting.

"'He'?" her mother gently corrected. "Lars isn't a he anymore, sweetie. You of all people ought to understand..."

Trish's mother had gotten used to having a trans daughter, but it hadn't been easy, when the village's ranks of men had been dwindling because of the witch. But it hadn't been easy for Trish either. When she first publicly transitioned, she got lots of jibes for it. "The witch got ya, Patrick?" Sometimes it felt like every man in the village shared a single braincell. Almost, anyway. Lars had always been kind to Trish, even if his heart was always for Lila.

"I'm going to call Lars what he wanted to be called until I hear otherwise," Trish said.

Some of the men who came back changed embraced their new sex, picking new names, new pronouns, new spouses, new roles in their family. Others chose to keep everything as it had been. You could almost ignore the change they'd undergone, except that every single one of them came back pregnant, and that child was always a girl.

"Let's just hope Lila has a boy in her, or this village might not last much longer," Trish's mother said, giving Trish a sidelong glance.

She knew Trish was a woman, but it seemed like she still held out hope that Trish would marry a woman and sire some grandkids. Trish, who had always been more attracted to men, hoped it would never come to that.

When Trish had been a boy, she'd been warned about the witch in the woods, as all the boys had to be warned. Not that the warning always seemed to help. They said if you were out in the forest after sunset, you might get seduced by the witch.

"I just don't understand why all these men fall for the witch's trap," Trish said.

"Maybe you don't understand it because you're different," her mother said.

"Can't they think with anything but their pricks?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow at that. "Maybe you should ask your friend."

The witch had been around for even longer than the village itself. Legend had it that the village was founded by a group of men on the run from their oppressors to the east. They came upon an encampment at the forest's edge that was entirely women; some young, some old. Together the two groups made a home here.

So the villagers understood that the witch was something other than human by now, but she was carrying out her insatiable vengeance for how she'd been wronged long ago.

Trish found Lars sitting on a stump outside of the village tavern.

"Barb won't serve me," he explained. "Not with..." He motioned to his midriff. The baby wasn't showing yet, but everyone knew it was there.

"I'm sorry," Trish said, sitting down next to him. "Should I still call you Lars?"

"I'd appreciate it if you would," he said. "Now I get what you told me about, how your body doesn't match who you are."

Trish put an arm around him. Even that felt different. Lars had muscle and fat in different places than before.

"You'll figure it out," Trish said, trying to be comforting while an anger simmered inside her. "But...why'd you do it?"

He blinked at her, stupefied. "Trish, what are you saying?"

"Why did you follow the witch?" she asked, and then understood how it sounded to him. "No one has ever explained this to me."

He shook his head. "I don't really know how to explain it either. From the moment she appeared, I knew she was there. Kinda glowing in the dusk, floating between the trees. I knew what it meant. I knew I should run, but I was transfixed."

"Was she beautiful?" Trish asked.

"She was...but normally that wouldn't be enough to make me stray. You ought to know that," Lars said.

Trish wiped a tear from her eye at the unexpected, bittersweet compliment.

"She cast a spell on me. I wasn't in control, even when she..." Lars sniffed back a sob.

It finally hit Trish, what the witch had done to Lars. What she'd done to all the men she'd taken from the village. It wasn't just seduction. It was a violation much deeper than that. No wonder they didn't like to talk about what happened in the witch's cabin.

"Fuck, Lars. I'm sorry, I didn't realize," Trish said. "I'm going to cut her head off."

"You and every other woman in the village," Lars said. "She won't come for you."

They had tried. Women had stayed out in the forest all night long. Even trans men, of which the village now had several, had tried to lure the witch with no success.

"Well, I have something they don't," Trish said with a smirk.

"I can't ask this of you. There's no reason to think you'd be able to resist her any more than I could," Lars said.

"We'll see," Trish said. "First, I need to know everything about what happened. If you can stand to relive it."

"For you? For revenge? I'll try," Lars said, and began his tale.

When the witch arrived, he was transfixed by her, instantly hard and feverish with desire for her. He was powerless to resist when she led him, by some unmarked path, to her hut deeper in the woods. There she disrobed them both and sat upon him. His erection betrayed him, and she took him into herself. She rode him until he almost couldn't endure it anymore. When he came inside her, he felt himself starting to change, until their roles were reversed: the witch, on top of him, now masculine, fucking Lars, now feminine, on his back, until the witch ejaculated inside him. He lost consciousness after that, and woke up on a bed of leaves, with his clothes beside him.

Trish could tell it took a lot out of Lars to tell her all of that, even though they'd been intimate before. She wanted to offer him something in return.

"I can do this," she said. "I can take her on."

"I don't think she'd come for you," Lars said. "And even if she did, you might not fare any better than I did."

"So?" she said. "Being turned into a woman would hardly be a bad thing."

"Trish, you're already a woman. You've been a woman since the day I met you," Lars said.

"I wish you could have told me that back then," Trish said.

"You're being very flip about this right now, but let me tell you, it's not a trauma you want to go through. Besides, even if she does take you, that's it. No one gets a second chance."

"I know," Trish said. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. Now let's get you home to your wife." She helped her friend up off is stump.

Trish slept on the idea. It was less appealing by the light of day. To get the witch to appear for her, she would need to look like a man, something that she had spent years trying not to do. But then she thought of Lars, and of all the other men who the witch had taken and changed.

She started digging out the clothes she used to wear before she transitioned. She was a little taller now, a little more filled out. The tunic and breeches were a little snug, but they ought to do.

"What are you up to?" her mother asked from the doorway. Trish startled.

In her mother's voice, Trish wondered if she heard a note of hope. Hope that she would get back the son she thought she had. But Trish wasn't going to press it. The two of them had been through a lot together.

"I'm going after the witch," she explained.

"I told them they couldn't make you do this," her mother said.

"Nobody's making me do anything," Trish said defensively. "Wait. Who's they?"

"The village elders had this idea too," her mother said dismissively, like she could push the village elders around if she wanted to. And on certain issues, that seemed to be true.

"Do you have any idea what that witch did to Lars?"

"I've heard all about it before," she said. "Well, if you're going to do this, here. Better for it than anything you've got."

Her mother pulled a blade from her waistband and handed to her. It wasn't long, but it was easy to hide, and the edge was sharply honed. Trish tucked it away.

"You know I might come back changed," Trish said.

"I know that you wouldn't do anything you weren't ready for," her mother replied. "Just be careful not to start a fight you can't finish."

Trish got dressed up in her man costume, as she thought of it, and waited until all the workers came back to the village at dusk. Then she crept out to the tree line and through it, into the dark woods. The moon was bright, but every tree limb cast a dark shadow. When she'd gone deep enough that she couldn't see the lights of the village, she stopped and waited.

Not long after, she heard twigs snapping, and heavy breathing. Someone clumsy in the dark. Not the witch. Some other woman following her trail.

At first Trish didn't recognize her friend, in the full length dress. "Lars?"

"Lara," she corrected, no longer straining to keep her voice deep.

"What are you doing here?"

"You don't need to do this, Trish," she said.

"So everyone keeps telling me," Trish said. "I say otherwise, and that's enough for me."

"What if I stay here with you, and scare the witch away?"

"I'm more stubborn than you. You know that." Trish kicked idly at a tree trunk. "Don't you want revenge for what she did to you?"

"I do, but...maybe this is selfish of me, but I don't want to see you changed, when I'm only just coming to grips with who I am now," Lara said, stepping closer. Closer than they'd been in a good while. Trish could almost feel the heat of her.

It was almost enough to sway her. Trish looked at the woman before her, with her clear doe eyes, her button nose, and recognized behind those eyes was the same friend she had laid with seasons ago. Her first love. Trish had always been attracted to men, but in this moment, she could see something attractive in a woman for once, and she was tempted to hold onto that. She might have to, to fool the witch into thinking that she was a willing victim.

And yet, why did Lara want her now? Because Lars was now Lara? Because there were parts of Trish that hadn't transitioned?

Lara held up a hand to Trish's face. It would be so easy to lean down and kiss her, but Trish resisted the impulse, for now at least.

"Lara, please, go home to Lila," she said. "You can find ways to make each other happy, I promise you. You just have to figure it out again."

Lara gave her arm a squeeze. "I know. I've just never been as good at figuring it out as you are."

"It's okay. You really haven't had to before," Trish said. Her friend turned and walked back towards the village.

Trish waited a couple more bells into the night before she gave up. She was determined to be the witch's next victim, but she wasn't going to lose sleep over it.

As she came to the village gate, the night watch called out, "Who's there?"

"Trish," she answered.

"Oh. Did the witch turn you back into a man?"

Trish sighed. "You wish, Elle. I was trying to bait the witch."

"Well she just took Lars, so she probably won't be back for more for a month at least."

Trish stopped. "It's a monthly thing?"

Elle leaned on his spear. "Something like that. A moon cycle, a menstrual cycle, who can say. And only when there's a man to take, of course. Anyway, you were wasting your time tonight."

Trish bid Elle good night.

Even though Elle thought the witch wouldn't be back soon, Trish kept going out to the woods every night just in case, just for the first few hours of the night. She stopped clean-shaving her face, and her facial hair started to sprout again. It was intolerably itchy at first, but she decided it'd help her disguise herself as a man. Nevertheless, she always felt self-conscious about walking around with that visual incongruity on display. She had worked so hard to present herself as a woman, and this damned witch was undoing all of it.

On those cold, lonesome vigils, Trish started to wonder if she shouldn't lay with Lara again. After all, there could be no risk to it, with Lara already carrying the witch's spawn. Maybe Lara could use some help discovering herself before sharing that self-discovery with Lila. Or maybe Trish had just gone too long without a partner.

She started wondering if the witch might never be fooled by her disguise. Maybe the witch could see into her heart, and knew Trish was a woman. There was no telling what was possible with the witch.

She started to wonder how the witch had been wronged, so long ago. Had she been magically seduced? Had she had her sex taken from her? Had she been impregnated? Regardless, it seemed like her cycle of vengeance never helped undo it. Perhaps the witch was stuck in it herself.

It was a foggy night, but that was fine. Trish had endured it all. Not even cold pouring rain could deter her. She didn't see or hear the witch coming at first, only a whistling wind, and a slight glow in the fog, and then she was there, her footsteps making no sound on the forest floor.

The witch was the most beautiful woman Trish had ever seen by far. Her plump lips, her narrow, arched brows, her large eyes catching the light. Trish was torn between wanting to be with her and wanting to be her. Trish felt her cock become instantly erect in her trousers, yearning for sweet release, and sweat beaded on her forehead. The witch's eyes caught hers, and Trish wasn't sure she could have looked away if she wanted to. She didn't want to, and she didn't dare to try, because whether this worked or not, she needed the witch to think she was helpless.

She said something that Trish didn't understand, and then held out her hand. As Trish reached for that hand, the witch glided away, leading her along with a cute, innocent smile and a sparkling laugh.

Trish knew in the back of her mind that her actions weren't her own. As beautiful as the witch was, Trish knew that her instant, unconditional compliance had to be the witch's magic at play. Trish tested the limits of this magic as they walked through the woods, willing her feet to slow. She fell behind, and the witch looked back, a brief look of concern replacing her smile, before Trish rushed to catch up again. Trish wondered if she could speak, but she saw no need to do so yet. She wasn't sure the witch even spoke her language. Trish was losing her breath as she rushed to keep up with the witch's effortless glide through the trees.

Deep in the woods, they arrived at a hut with a candle in the window. Bells were hung around the edges of the roof, but the air was still enough that none of them rang. When the witch opened the door, a cloud of hot humid air escaped. Inside, it was hot and wet like the sweat-hut back in the village, but the air was sweetly scented with herbs and spices. Trish hadn't been comfortable in these clothes to begin with, but now the heat prickled on her skin, and she felt the fabric sticking to her. Soon she found herself stripping out of the tunic and breeches, dropping them where she stood.

She could feel the hairs on her chest, which she normally would have shorn close, standing at attention. So was her cock. Normally Trish most enjoyed licking, sucking, being buggered, but this time she was consumed with a desire to penetrate the witch's nethers. It was like her cock was a divining rod, pointing to the water she thirsted for. She hadn't even touched herself--the witch had not moved her hand to do so, and had therefore denied her the pleasure--but she was still as firm and erect as she'd ever been before. The engorgement made her swollen and tender and sensitive, in a way she could feel throughout her loins and all the way up her chest.

The witch unclasped her cloak, revealing her naked form all at once. Underneath, she was a perfect example of the female form, from her shapely neck to the soft mounds of her breasts to her nimble waist, wide hips, and thick thighs. All her skin was pale and smooth. The witch came close to her, running one hand up the back of her neck, the other hand gently teasing her cock. It jumped with excitement at the slightest touch. She gasped, as the muscles in her cock spasmed in reply, and her precum started to flow, more than it naturally would.

Her captor muttered something. The words didn't make sense to her, but somehow the meaning did. Trish understood that the young-looking woman wanted to be kissed on her earlobe. Trish felt the woman's frame shudder in her embrace when she did. It didn't take language to convey that the witch was in a heightened state of arousal herself. Everywhere that their skin touched felt electric.

Trish spared a thought for how different this was than anything she would have normally done of her own volition. She wasn't typically attracted to women at all, and she liked to sleep with friends after at least getting to know them a while. Now she understood a bit more of why Lara had come back unsettled by her experience. For Trish, this might be very unusual, but she knew what she was getting into.

Those perfect breasts pressed against Trish's chest as she trailed kisses down that shapely neck, to the narrow shoulders, while longing to go further down... But driven by some other desire, the witch took her hand and led her to lie down on a rough-made bed. Trish laid down on her back, and the witch straddled her waist. It wasn't until she laid down there, that Trish noticed the pattern of grooves in the surface of the floor, arcane geometric symbols that converged on this spot.

When the witch's nubile form pressed down on Trish's erection, taking it up into herself, Trish experienced a mix of reactions. Her body seemed to long for this, more than she had ever longed for anything before. Trish had tried kissing a woman before, and it had sparked nothing in her. So this was her first time laying with a woman and experiencing the unique delights of the female form. And she understood now why men enjoyed it so much. Only the tip of her had nudged into the witch's body, but something primal urged her on, and made her want more. At the same time, she knew this wasn't really her own reaction. Not entirely anyway.

The witch sank down on her inch by inch, somehow taking the entirety of Trish's cock inside of her. Trish couldn't entirely see how that worked, but she could feel that it was a tight fit, and with their bodies conjoined, she could feel everything inside the witch's body undulating around her, quivering with restrained intensity. She started rocking slowly, tentatively at first, and Trish felt every movement of their bodies against each other, every glide of the other woman's vaginal walls against the contours of her rod, the sensitive flare of the head. It really had been a long time since she'd been with anyone. Maybe this was just what she needed. At the same time, she struggled to keep her mission in the back of her mind. But she couldn't let it show on her face, not when the witch still had the upper hand.

Then the witch started rocking back and forth harder, and faster. The intensity between them built, like lightning waiting to strike. Trish's erection had been at full hardness and full sensitivity since the witch showed up in the forest. Now she wondered how much of this she could take, with pleasure and sensation flooding her senses. The witch's motions grew frantic, desperate, grinding her crotch into Trish's, and then her moan turned into a cry, and then into a scream. She tried to keep rocking as much as she could, but now it was in an irregular rhythm.