A/N: I do not, in general, write kid stories. My adult ratings are for a reason. My stories feature: violence (often graphic), Sexuality (almost always graphic), and worse. The villains in my stories are typically very villainous. The heroes are not always heroic- even if most of the time they are. Readers should expect a blanket trigger warning on everything I write. Themes of dubious- or non-consenting sex, domination, violence, gore, and character death- including major characters- exist in many of them. I do not condone such activities in real life, but unfortunately they are real in our world, and I don't feel that I could write fiction fairly without including them.

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Of course, you can ALSO find more of the same stories there. Most everything here (including FwB, PoW, and TaL) are posted here at least a week after the lowest tier's delayed post on Pa Tree On.

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That's enough out of me. Enjoy!


Ch. 15:

Enjoyable Interlude, Intimate Assault

An hour or a little more later, Zelda stumbled on a patch of the uncommon Silent Shrooms Giro had told her were the main ingredient in a dexterity-enhancing potion, and a breeze from the pile of rocks they grew from told her there was a cavern or tunnel in the hill behind them. With a single bomb and stepping back several paces, Zelda cleared the way to a small cavern that made her gasp in awe once again.

The hill outside wasn't too large, perhaps eighty or ninety feet on a side, rocky and steep with a mounded grassy top. Inside was a grotto at least sixty feet on the longer side, and forty on the narrower, with a ceiling that ranged from eight to twelve or more feet up, well outside of the young woman's reach even as her arms stretched to their fullest. Water filled about half of the ground area, a slow flow from near on her right, welling through the rocks, and out further back on her right. Nearer on the right, a large, flat area was covered in soft-looking moss and algae, while further back, opposite the shallow, clear steam, several shining veins of crystal shimmered in the sunlight which hadn't touched the grotto in who knew how long.

The air smelled faintly sweet thanks to the moss and flowers outside, the air cool but not unpleasantly so. If anything, it was a refreshing break from the hot day outside. In fact, I could probably use a bath, Zelda thought to herself, shamelessly lifting an arm and ducking her head down. She made a face at once, "Yes, I could definitely use a bath. And since this place is so well-hidden, off the road, and rarely traveled... I suppose the worst that could happen is Giro getting a show. I doubt he would complain... though I think I might."

Strangely, while she didn't consider the man attractive at all, Zelda found herself both embarrassed and intrigued by the thought of what he would do, what she would do, if he suddenly came across her in a state of undress. It was horribly scandalous, she was sure, being a princess and all. Weren't they supposed to be modest, demure?

But still, there was something... Maybe it was the scar she knew marred her face still, making her feel... less. Less than what, she didn't know, but less than before at the very least. Zelda supposed, based on the glimpses she had in the water, and how two of the three men she'd met since waking acted (her father's ghost excluded, of course), that she was fairly attractive overall, wasn't she? Except for that scar. Slender, fit, with beautiful hair, and a nice enough figure, neither too endowed or small in the chest. Yes, she was certain that, hermit or not, Giro (and probably Brigo, and Mils too) would appreciate a show. She wouldn't encourage it, but she couldn't fault them if they happened across her, either.

It wasn't like they could've known she was about to undress outdoors...

Zelda's belts, baldrics, straps, and satchels were already on the ground when she realized she had made the decision, and she was untying the toggles on her parka. She paused for only a moment, feeling her face heat... she was so shameless! What princess bathes in a natural grotto, knowing that there was even a faint possibility of someone coming by to see? What princess gets... excited at the prospect (and she definitely was, Zelda realized, her nipples already stiff against the red shirt she still wore beneath the coat, and the wrap she had woken up wearing in the Shrine of Resurrection)?

"Apparently this one," she murmured to herself as the parka slipped off. A moment later the shirt, hastily folded, joined it, and Zelda began unfastening the smaller toggles and buttons that held up her doeskin trousers, before she sat on a nearby rock and leaned down to pull off her boots.

Finally, with a glance out the blown-open grotto entrance- just in case- Zelda started shimmying out of the tight-fitting leather. It took more than a minute, but soon enough she was able to step out of them and, reaching down to grab the spear just in case, she turned away, stepping toward the pool of water, looking for the deepest parts.

Even that was only knee-deep, she found, near the back where it flowed into the rocks and back out in a small stream to join the larger river nearby. It was enough for her to sink onto her knees and use the bits of mud and algae to scrub as best she could, though. Every few moments she glanced outside, but all the princess saw was grass, flowers, trees, and an old statue that had a vaguely-carved, time-worn face in it.

The water was cold, but pleasant on her skin, and even though it was in a way very dirty on its own, Zelda felt the abrasion and sappy fluid released from the moss by her exertions had done a decent job of cleaning her by the time she'd covered everything. Finally, she ended by splashing water up over her face again and again, and cupping her hands to let it run down her long hair several times. She'd been a bit sticky before then, but afterward felt quite refreshed and yes, even clean. A tentative sniff, much more careful than the last one after her odor had caught the princess by surprise the first time, yielded much better results. "Ah... Yes, that was surprisingly refreshing. And I smell good, too."

Once, Zelda was sure she'd had access to expensive perfumes, fragrances and oils that common folk would pay exorbitantly for. She hoped she wouldn't have been one of those people who used them much. Still, there's something to be said for natural fragrances. I bet a few of those flowers in my hair would both smell good and look nice, too. Not that I have anyone to really look nice for.

Eventually, unwilling to get back to her duty when she was feeling so relaxed, the Princess shifted around in the little pool so her back was against the rocks, half reclined in the water as deep as she could go. Her ankles and feet stuck out, and at first the air made them feel cold, but it was her breasts which she paid more attention to. They were not so large as to truly float on the water, but they were slightly buoyed and caressed by the faint, fading ripples as she moved and breathed, the surface just breaking over her pink nipples. They're hard again... no, still. I don't think they've calmed down. I'm pretty sure Giro has no idea this cave was here, so he wouldn't have come looking, and I haven't seen anyone else. But the thought of it, just the small chance... I wonder if I'm just... a pervert...?

Zelda lifted a hand to her left breast, the newly forming callouses felt strange but quite good as she gave the mound a squeeze. It was more than she could hold, but not by much, and her palm grazing and pressing against her hard nipple made the woman hiss. "Ooh... that felt nice. It's... I wonder... if I ever did this before. Is... I know... people do it. I don't even question. But did... I? Before...? Even if I did, it's been over a century. I wonder how... backed up..."

She moaned, louder but still quietly enough the susurrus of leaves outside would have drowned it out, as she cupped her other breast too. Then she squeezed her nipples lightly, then harder, and gave each one a tentative twist. "Ooh... oh. Mm..."

Zelda felt her eyes drift mostly closed, though a part of her kept a bit of attention on the entrance, and checked again that her spear was within easy reach, then relaxed into the sensations in her body. The water felt even colder now, but as it caressed and moved over her heated body, the princess reveled in it, imagining it as a lover's touch. Had she one, before...? It might have been improper, but perhaps she had been expected to produce an heir? Was she married? In a relationship? There was just so much she didn't know, especially about herself.

"If I was, they're gone now," Zelda murmured, "A hundred years later... if they're alive, they would be ancient."

As she continued to enjoy the touch of her hands and the water, the air, over her body, one drifted lower, down her taut stomach to nest between her legs. It wasn't the first time she had touched herself like this since returning to the world of the living, but unlike beneath the hollow of a tree in the storm, Zelda felt her newly-calloused fingers were her own. The desire for pleasure, too, stemmed from within her. It simply... felt good. And she deserved a bit of good, didn't she? She had fought so much, been through so much pain, didn't she deserve some pleasure...?

While a bit... unlike what Zelda expected was 'her type', her mind turned to Mils, as the most handsome of the men she'd met thus far. Imagined his eyes on her, watching her touch herself, make little circles on her bud with one finger, while those framing it caressed her folds. Imagined him touching himself in response, his shock when she told him who she was, and that she would allow him to continue watching... watching a princess pleasure herself before him, if he would only continue doing what he was.

She liked the image, Zelda decided, as shameless as it made her feel. Then, unbidden, another figure strode into her fantasy around a tree, coming from almost nowhere. Mina, his sister, with her Sheikah-white hair and more tanned skin. More capable, more confident, lithe and beautiful, but with such beautiful breasts beneath that leather armor...

Zelda moaned, imagining what she would look like as she opened it, too. But no... that wasn't right... she didn't like women. Did she...?

"Don't care," she whispered to herself, "just... feels good."

She let both siblings touch themselves in her mind as she did the same in reality, the two studiously ignoring each other (aside from one curious, dirty glance that made Mils blush as he caught himself observing his sister's nakedness). Somehow, Zelda thought the details of what he would be doing should be more... vague. Hidden, masked. Yet his rod was stiff and hard, average (she assumed) in size, but more than adequate for the task, and his hand stroked smoothly, evenly as he watched her. There were plenty of details, too, as much as there were on Mina, who resembled her own more than Zelda would have expected her subconscious to conjure up.

She was nearing completion, a powerful feeling that was starting to overwhelm the princess' mind, both hot and cold, tingling and serene, calm, but a powerful, crushing wave of sensation that stemmed from her core, deep inside her body's lower half and spread outward like a slow-moving fireball of pleasure, when one more person entered her imagination.

The same man, blonde of hair, faceless, toned and strong. His hands wrapped her waist from behind, covered the one on her breast, then slid down as hers had to cover that one, too. "That's it, Princess," he said, voice calm and sure, capitalizing the word in her mind as if it was more, to him, than just a title. A name, his name for her, perhaps. "Let yourself go... enjoy it, just relax... and enjoy..."

Zelda climaxed with a grunt, her hips shaking upward and down against her madly-stroking hand, eyes rolled back in her head and even her breathing stopped for several seconds. Finally, the crescendo passed, and she flopped bonelessly back down into the water, which thankfully softened the blow of the rocks below. "Oh... Oh, Hylia," she moaned a few seconds later, "that... I needed that. More... more than even... the bath."

She languished for a few more minutes as the tingling fire in her nerves and veins faded back to normal, trying desperately to recall some other detail about the man. Who was he? Was that her lover? Her husband? Had she one at all? Zelda still didn't know, and it frustrated her to no end. Imagining Mils, and then Mina, would definitely have done the job, but having him come in at the last second had added an intensity to her orgasm that left Zelda breathless. If nothing else, it seemed her past self had wanted him to know her intimately, if he had not. Just the thought of him watching her almost prompted her to start rubbing between her legs again, but Zelda forced herself to sit up, water streaming down her torso.

And froze.

She was being watched.

Not by Giro, or Mils, or Mina, or her mysterious, faceless... whatever he was.

A Korok. Gray-skinned, striped, with a heart-shaped mask for a face and two sprigs of holly in its lap as it sat on a nearby stone, watching her. "You broke my door," it said.

She blinked. "I... Excuse me?"

One stubby hand lifted a sprig, "My door. You broke it with your blue, noisy light."

"O- Oh. I'm, um... sorry...?"

The Korok simply stared.

Zelda looked back, growing increasingly aware she was, in fact, stark naked. In, apparently, the Korok's home. And bathing in its...

"You're naked."

Slowly, the young woman nodded, her hair still dragging, wet, across her bare back. "I was... bathing..."

More staring. "Thought humans didn't like being naked outside."

Zelda's face heated, "I... most, um... don't...? But I was... really dirty, so..." More dirty pleasuring yourself out here, idiot princess...

Eventually, while she fought to cover herself (far too late) without making it look obvious, the Korok shrugged and half-turned away, as if it simply didn't care that she was naked, and was only surprised by the fact that she didn't seem to care. In fact, she did, but Zelda had been trying her hardest not to call attention to it.

Besides, did Koroks even find humans... attractive, in that way? She certainly didn't feel that way about any of the spirits she'd met so far. Did it even see, or know, or understand, what she was doing? Would it care, if it did?

"If you clean up the mess, you can have a seed," the Korok said, "but not before. You don't have to fix my door, I like the breeze. But clean up the rocks outside."

"Er... okay," Zelda murmured shyly, "I... No... test?"

The mask twisted to face her, the body contorting strangely to do so, "Eh? No. Just clean up your mess. It's rude enough to break into someone's house like that, but don't leave a mess when you go! Very impolite."

"Er... Y- Yes. You're right. Um... I'll... try to remember that."

The Korok nodded, then vanished in a puff of leaves.

Or so she assumed, for she could no longer see it.

After it was gone, Zelda hurried to stand and wick away as much water as she could. Struggling into her doeskin breeches was hard with her legs still a bit wet, but eventually the princess wasn't quite as nude as she had been before, and shortly after that she was fully dressed again. Her face was still red, she was sure, but at least it hadn't been a human. She could tell herself that made it better.

But the truth was, Zelda was forced to admit, at least to herself as she did her best to gather up the small, sharp pebbles and stones that were left in the wake of her explosive discovery of the grotto, that in hindsight... knowing she had actually been watched lent a strange, unusual spice to the encounter even after the fact. Imagining a woman was new to her, too, Zelda thought, but she had been quite as aroused by the attractive, white-haired woman as her brother. At least, in her own mind. What's wrong with me...?

Zelda didn't have an answer to her internal question. All she knew for certain was that desires like that were... different. Not new to her, necessarily, because she couldn't say if they were or were not. Just... not usual. With barely any memory at all, the princess was sure most people, the vast majority, did not enjoy the idea of being watched while in such a vulnerable, intimate position. And especially not when actively pleasuring themselves.

Yet... she truly had.

The thought both ashamed her, and gave another little thrill, maintaining a renewed, constant low level of arousal in her body for the hour and more she spent picking through the grass and flowers, trying to find all the gray stone and arranging it more neatly.

Finally, when she could find no more, Zelda stuck her head back into the grotto. What she saw surprised her even more than the first glimpse of the beautiful, natural nook had. The Korok was plainly visible for one, and in the process of making a stack of stones of its own. In the forest spirit's case, they were not simple rock, however. Instead, there were, from what she could tell, four chunks of amber cornering a square, and pulled from the wall itself, two of topaz between opposite sides with two darker, obsidian or flint chunks in the opposite, and a large, but murky red stone, a ruby she thought, on top in a pyramid. On top of that, in turn, was a small golden seed. The Korok turned as she entered, "You did good, naked lady. Here you go. You can have the rocks. I saw you looking at them."

Zelda's eyes widened. "That... that's very, um, generous of you. Especially after I destroyed your door and made a mess."

The Korok only shrugged again, "I liked watching you. You can come back if you want."

This time, she was sure her face would explode like a bomb from the heat that suffused it, but the Korok appeared to feel no shame. After hastily gathering up the stones and seed (refusing to look anywhere near the spirit as she did so), Zelda gave it a hasty wave, and then hurried back out into the late afternoon.

"So embarrassing," she muttered quietly. Even though she knew it might have been innocently referring to watching her work as she cleaned up the stones, somehow Zelda doubted it.

"Little perverted Korok..."

A short while later, as Zelda was making her way north again back to the road and the river she would soon have to cross, the Princess saw a small stand of strange, flame-colored thistle blooms she had heard Giro describe as having strength-enhancing qualities, much like the bladed rhino beetles she had traded to him. With a smile, she used her knife to cut off a few blossoms, careful to avoid stabbing herself with the thin spines.

After that, Bokoblins. In a camp just off the road, in plain view of any traveler... where, if they were smart, they would cut around. If not, they would have to fight.

This group, like that last after watching the woman who had loved Brigo from afar die in her arms, Zelda actively chose to annihilate.

Five red ones and a blue leader might be a huge threat, even an insurmountable obstacle for her, but these particular ones were overconfident to the point of stupidity. Even worse than most Bokoblins, she chuckled darkly to herself.

What the young adventurer had at first thought were three more Bokoblins turned out to be explosive barrels, instead, scattered about and among the actual monsters. One was dangerously close to the fire, too. Smirking slightly to herself, Zelda crept a little closer, made sure she was out of sight, then started climbing up a wide, thick tree. Moving as carefully as she could so she wouldn't be spotted or heard as the tree shifted, the princess eventually found herself nestled in the first large boughs. Her view of the camp itself was partially blocked by foliage, and she was a little closer than was comfortable to the nearest explosive barrel, but Zelda thought she would be at least mostly safe.

If she fired and then closed her eyes and looked away while covering her sensitive, elfin ears before her flaming arrow ignited the powder within, she should be alright. At least, that was her hope.

She took out the first red-glass, enchanted arrow she could reach out of her impressive bundle of thirty and knocked it to the bow behind the cover of a branch. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to spot the light it gave off before she loosed. Even the few seconds she expected it to take to burn through the barrel might be too long, and one or two might escape.

She did have time to close her eyes, but her hands had not yet clapped over her ears when the arrow hit the barrel dead-center. Even so, the roar of flame and brilliant light of the explosions left glaring green after-images of the interposing tree branches for several seconds after the chained blasts. The staccato booms as the arrow, then all three barrels one after the other in quick succession went off, sent a wave of concussive force blasting her way that almost threw Zelda from the tree. A tiny fraction of a second later, she was pelted with leaves, ash, and smoldering splinters of wood. One Bokoblin's red finger bounced off her left shoulder, not quite dissipated before it hit the ground, wriggling. And the noise... it had been far louder than she had anticipated. The Fire arrow didn't exactly explode with concussive force, but the wave of heat and light that had left it alone was far stronger than she had expected. Her ears stung, and a high-pitched ringing was all she could hear, too.

When she opened her eyes and was able to blink past the violet and green after-image to make sense of the world again, she was not terribly surprised to see several flaming weapons, ignited by the sneak attack's intensity, laying strewn about the area along with either burning corpses or wisps of black smoke. She was a bit more shocked to see the blue Bokoblin still alive, and struggling to its feet. It had been directly next to one barrel, yet it seemed only slightly injured.

Then it turned to scowl loosely in her direction, and she saw the side of its body that had been closest to the bomb. It was a charred, ruined wreck, mutilated, burned, and crushed. Almost at once, Zelda vomited at the sight.

Unfortunately, even in the state it was in, the blue Bokoblin focused on the sound, motion, and no doubt smell at once. With a rough, gurgling screech through a charred throat, it charged toward her, shoulder-checking the tree while she struggled to control herself. Caught off guard by the way it had attacked, Zelda slipped, losing her tentative grip and even shakier balance.

With a sharp cry, she tumbled from the tree downward, landing hard on her back. The wind was knocked out of her, and she fought to stay conscious as the horrific form of the half-charred, murderous Bokoblin loomed over her. Her vision was already going dark. She could see, through the tunnel left of her sight, the thing's shattered, mutilated, blackened claw grasping for her throat alongside the bloody but mostly intact blue one.

Hazy, but she saw the blade of the short-sword it carried, too, raising high overhead now, after it change its mind about throttling her.

Her numb fingers didn't remember hitting the button, but she imagined it going violet as the power of Magnesis took control of it.

Barely hanging on to the thinnest shreds of consciousness, still trying to gasp uselessly through a stunned diaphragm, numb fingers slid across the Slate's screen.

Above her, Zelda couldn't really see any more, but still dimly heard through the ringing in her ears (compounded by her hard impact with the ground and the lack of oxygen reaching her brain both), the Bokoblin's shriek as the weapon was ripped from its fingers. She felt, just barely, the passage of wind as it moved over her face. Heard the squish of the blade piercing flesh. Felt the hot splatter of blood as it covered her.

Winced, as the sword landed across her sore, abused stomach, where the Bokoblin had straddled her.

Quiet.

Aside from the tinny ringing, of course, but even that began to fade.

Slowly, her sight returned, first a pinprick that was still blurred, but eventually all of it.

Zelda pushed herself up, and had to fight off another wave of dizziness. Tenderly, she reached back to feel a huge bump, incredibly tender, forming just to the right of the back of her head. "Ow..."

After she stood, the princess, still swaying, rested a hand on the nearby tree for stability and glared at the remains of the Bokoblin. "I just got clean, now I've ichor on me again."

Disgusted, annoyed, still half-deaf and in pain once more, the princess set about looting the camp of everything she could find. Much of it was burned, useless, including their weapons. In the end, Zelda had given up her damaged, worn basic two-handed sword for the better-made broadsword the Bokoblin had been wielding, and even tossed the spiked Boko club she was still carrying for a second throwing spear. Even if the club would hurt more, they were difficult for her to use, hurt her hands, and didn't have the reach of the spears. Being more skilled with them anyway, it was an easy choice for her to make.

She wasn't able to get many Bokoblin parts either, most had been burned away in the explosion and its aftermath, but with some disgust Zelda used a few leaves to help her pick up some sort of pulsating, purple-colored sac from the small pile of teeth and horn the blue leader had left. It smelled foul, rancid, and she had no idea what it was, but Giro had confirmed that nearly all monster parts were useful for Alchemy. Something about how they were created, or possibly reborn, or whatever the rare Blood Moons did, perhaps, filled the bits of flesh and marrow with magic that worked as a catalyst for more natural ingredients.

At least, that was his working theory. Zelda didn't know any better or worse, so she accepted it as 'possibly true' for now. It was the only reason she bothered to pick up the disgusting bladder-like mass.

Of much greater value was the shield she found in their magically-locked chest. She couldn't carry many, even shrunken and near-weightless shields took up a fair bit of room on her back, and already lined the outside of her satchel. So Zelda, a bit sad to see her first real protection go, tossed the deer-painted (if much scratched) wooden buckler into the scattered coals and fire along with the rest of the refuse, and slipped the serpent-painted, larger targe to her arm and quick-draw strap before pulling the new one out of the chest.

It was a bit larger than any she possessed, if you discounted the spikes on her two larger, wooden Boko shields, and about three inches larger than her targe. Still cored with wood, the soldier's shield- for it was clearly of professional but utilitarian make- was reinforced and lined with strips of metal across the front and around the rim, and the double grip on the inside was comfortable enough to be use with either hand. Suitable for mass production, the kind of thing you would create- or have created- for a fighting force where uniforms were the norm.

It was thick, too, though not much heavier than the Bokoblin's reinforced shields. Zelda tested the weight carefully with her off-hand, and found it comfortable enough even when she was injured. With a grin, she slipped it onto the freed-up spot on her satchel, then gave a last once-over to the camp. She spotted nothing else of value, so huffed once more at how even her best plans always seemed to go awry at the last moment (even if it had been hugely effective for the most part), and moved on.

As the sun moved further still toward the horizon again (and this journey was taking far longer than Mina and Mils had suggested, but she had also been in several fights, taken even more detours, and gained a lot for it, too, even if she had paid in blood and pain), Zelda passed by another Korok's pinwheel, shooting down a few more balloons for another seed. She continued to gather alchemy supplies too, adding more lizards, mushrooms, insects, and other odds and ends to her collection.

More interestingly, near the Kork's pinwheel she had found a small pond rich in fish. Proud of herself for her ingenuity, Zelda had saved herself a lot of work- or hunting down or crafting a makeshift rod- by using bombs to stun or kill fish in a wide radius around each explosion, then simply picking them up as they floated.

Of course, having stripped down to just her underthings once more for her swim added a certain thrill for Zelda too, and it was because she had decided to spent a little while staring up at the blue-orange sky in the warmth of the late afternoon while floating placidly on the lake that she spotted it.

The princess had just turned over after her watery rest to begin swimming to shore when the glint of metal far below caught her eye. It took her a few minutes to swim to shore, create a pillar with Cryonis as a starting point, swim back out, climb it, and then use Magnesis to retrieve the object, but Zelda was glad she had. Aside from the several common Hyrule bass, Mighty carp, and Staminoka bass her loud fishing excursion had gained her, the object that came up with the magnetism-rune had no small value too. It was a ring, silver she thought, but much tarnished by years under the water. The gem inside however, which had caught her eye, was a brilliant opal. Grinning, she pried it free from the setting and let the rest fall back into the water. She kept a firm grip on the stone while she swam back to shore, heading for her clothes.

She didn't notice the small tree, barely a sapling, that had not been there when she took them off.

At least, she didn't notice it until the strange, bulbous, green-mottled creature burst from the earth behind her. Before she could react, half-crouched as she reached for her clothes, one thick, earth-covered tentacle wrapped around her waist, hauling her into the air. She screamed, high and loud, as another one whipped around her left arm and neck. For the second time that day, she was slammed into the earth, and a third sinuous limb was thrown over her thighs. A second scream, as she tried to escape was muffled by yet another tentacle.

This one, unfortunately, jammed its way straight into her mouth, striking the back of her throat and uvula with force. Zelda felt her eyes bug and the pain and shock, and she gagged uncontrollably. She tried to brace for another blow, a heavy strike from the thickly-muscled limbs, but it did not come. In fact, the next thing the princess realized she was feeling was a much softer touch, as the earthy green tentacle in her mouth started to pull back. Then she realized there was something soft, wet, meaty rather than the plant stem-like texture of the tentacles had, now extending from its tip. It was a deep pink color, almost tending toward violet, and surprisingly stiff, veiny.

Just as the green tip of the tentacle came into view, split wide in an almost floral way, she realized what this was. Octorok, her mind supplied, A forest Octorok.

The little growth she had taken for a sapling still sprouted from the ambush-hunter's mouth at the top of its bulbous body, and two simple, black, insectoid eyes as large as her spread palm were visible on this side of the thing, though she knew it had a half-dozen others, like a spider, spread around the ovoid mass. As many eyes as it had tentacles, in fact. Three of the four large ones were holding her down, while a fourth was violating her mouth with... with...

While forest Octoroks resembled plants greatly in exterior, she could without a doubt say their physiology was very much that of an animal or other creature with a heart. They were strange in construct, to be sure, but the proboscis that was, well, probing her mouth and throat as she tried not to vomit was absolutely the reproductive organ of an animal-like creature.

It was these thoughts, the detached, order observations of a scientist, that Zelda credited in that moment for allowing her to maintain focus as the creature raped her mouth.

Not would-be, not attempted, as a few Bokoblins had one, but actively, powerfuly. And she was gagging, convulsing, trying not to cough even while she fought for air for the second time that day. There was only one, perhaps two, ways in which this violation could be worse.

Even as she had the thought, she felt another of the narrower tentacles slither between her legs, and watched in ever-growing horror as the creature's huge, sucker-like mouth, which was capable of expelling twenty-pound stones at arrow-like velocity when it exhaled suddenly with the huge sac that formed most of its body's volume, reached down to close around the mount of her breast, laid bare by the shifting of her body and the tentacles that held her.

As tears welled in her eyes, the young woman felt the worst, most intimate violation of all. Not being penetrated, that had, fortunately, not happened yet, though one tentacle was slithering in the gap between her legs, worming its way up the crack of her rear. No... it was the fact that its mouth on her breast felt good. Something in its secretions made her skin tingle with warmth and heat, and Zelda found herself silently moaning around the pseudo-phallus in her throat as her eyes rolled back. Her entire tit was being sucked on, and something smaller, tongue-like, was flicking across her nipple.

It felt... it felt so good, why did it have to feel good when she was being...

No.

No.

Zelda's suddenly lust-riddled mind, which had started with her strange exhibitionism and imaginings hours earlier and was now culminating with almost being excited by this... this intimate assault, snapped into razor-sharp clarity as time seemed to slow around her.

She knew this could happen in mortal danger. Had experienced it recently, in fact.

This was a new height to the state. Moving at basically a stand-still thanks to the adrenaline now coursing in huge volumes through her bloodstream, the Octorok suckled and nuzzled at her as its first small tentacle slid agonizingly slowly, as if teasing her with the terror of its- and it felt strangely good too, Zelda realized, as terrible as her situation was. In, in, one long, deep stroke, around the curve of her mouth and several inches into her throat, which was highly unused to the activity. It stretched and moved her flesh painfully, but it still was so pleasurable... but she was better now.

Her fingers closed around the wire-wrapped handle of one of the soldier's broadswords at her back, one which had fallen to the side as she hit the ground. It expanded at her touch, as was intended, but at a snail's pace. The whole while, Zelda was forced to endure another spike of pleasure in her body as a third small tentacle wrapped in a spiral around her chest-wraps, yanked them down, and then closed around her other nipple, twisting at that, too. The one in her throat switched directions, pulling out now, and in a few hours it would switch once more...

The sword reached full size, and the cornered, trapped woman released it from the quick-draw tie with one hand. It had only come partially free as that same hand took hold of the sword again, and whipped it up.

Her first strike was against the greatest violation. Sappy liquid, not warm or cool but air-temperature, sprayed out across the Octorok, and a bit on her too, as it was severed cleanly about two feet from the green tip, where the ovipositor in her throat began. At once, almost fast even in the strange slow motion she was experiencing, the tentacle began to wriggle and twitch, writhing even as it fell into gravity's embrace. The other end flew back and up with the force of her swing though she had precious little leverage, and smacked the sapling growth at the top of the Octorok's head.

It was still trying to register what had happened, one black, insectoid eye seeming to grow wide in surprise as she smashed the blade down next, stabbing cleanly into the one holding her arm and neck, narrowly missing her own flesh. Doubtless, she lost a few splayed, golden hairs in the process, but Zelda didn't have time to care. The third strike, as she yanked her arm free in a flurry of motion, was taken with her left hand, thrust down between the Octorok's bulb and her hips, slashing up. A fourth came back down, cutting deeply into the tentacle there. Not quite through, but far enough into it that it lost all strength to hold her. Back to the right now, and the thin one that was only now withdrawing from her bare breast, a bit behind the recoiling mouth, was cut off six feet from the tip as it curled. Six, the sapling itself. Seven, a slash with both hands as she bolted to a half-sitting position, her abdomen taught to hold her there, throwing the bulb back further. Eight, two handed again, and downward slash from overhead, on the one holding her legs together. That blow, she deliberately pulled. There wass no sense in cutting her own legs off. Still, she nearly severed it before the momentum stopped. The eighth, final strike was two-handed too, a reverse-grip thrust from her right to her left, an awkward, strange blow Zelda was certain was in no combat manual ever written. But it worked, spearing into the bulb just above the short tube of its mouth. It pierced deep through the thick muscle there and into the cavernous space beyond. When the blade came free, Zelda used all the strength she had in her wrists to curve and spin the blade, cutting outward. It left a fourteen inch slice from her original thrust, and she felt and heard gas escaping even as the Octorok fell backward.

She was already kicking her legs, the sword back in one hand as the other moved to give her purchase, to throw off the remains of tentacles, or the whole ones that now whipped wildly around the dying creature.

The princess was standing when, at last, the saliva- and sap-thickened phallus finally slipped out of her throat and mouth, bounced off her bare chest, and then flopped, still wriggling, onto the grass near the pond.

She watched, chest heaving and blade out still, for any sign of counterattack. What she saw instead, as her heart pounded, her body still aching with renewed need, was the bulb deflating like a balloon with the end untied, and the tentacles falling limp, one after the other, to the ground like a pile of dead snakes.

It vanished in smoke finally, after what felt like an interminable amount of time. Little was left, only a single one of the air-sacs that made up the mostly hollow interior, and the tip of one tentacle.

The same one that had been in her mouth and throat.

Zelda shuddered, still feeling it in a visceral way as she stared at the still twitching flesh.

Eventually, it too went still. Still, she stared.

It could not, she thought, have deposited eggs in her that way.

But if it had been lower, in her womb...? What, then, would have happened? The tip of it was not like a human's, or at least what her imagination had supplied Mils' looking like. It was slender, pointed, like the tentacles itself, though little ridges and knobs ringed it a few times, spiraling up the length until it went inside the larger mass. But the last set of knobs, smaller than the rest, seemed to open, too, and some fluid was already leaking out of them. Lubricant, perhaps. Maybe it was what had messed with her senses so much, a chemical intoxicant or aphrodisiac. It could also simply have been fluid that carried reproductive cells. Zelda didn't want to know, but the downside of her scientist's mind was that horrible, dangerous curiosity.

What would it feel like, there...?

"No, stop it," she growled harshly at herself, "That's not a route you're going down. You aren't taking it with you to experiment with later, either."

Instead, Zelda resumed dressing, feeling incredibly paranoid of every sapling and bush now, but none of them moved that she could see. Once her gear and clothing were safely back on, the princess scowled at the bladder, then used a few locks of her hair to tie off the end. Gasses within, she could remember, actually remember for once, her own voice telling someone within, would cause it to expand over time. Exposure to oxygen would increase the speed rapidly, so she needed to close it off for now and get it in her bag, where it could not grow. At least I could use hair I've already cut off, she tried to reason with herself.

She still didn't like it. She liked her hair, and liked it long, even if it could be inconvenient. Call it vanity perhaps, but it was one of the current Zelda's favorite features about her looks. Cutting it off was not something she would do anytime soon, at least not willingly. Yet, she was practical enough that, if it came to it, she would not hesitate. As long as there was a need, like a few minutes before.

When she was done, some ten minutes after she had first been attacked, Zelda, frowning deeply still, stared at the end of the tentacle. Stared some more. "Fine. Fine. You can take it. But no examining it for details later. You are not going to start experimenting with monster parts like... like that! That's just gross, Zelda!"

Fortunately for her, the rest of her brain seemed to agree for once, and it put the matter to rest as the ovipositor was slipped into her satchel, too.

It was growing dark when at last the adventurous woman returned to the riverside. Rather than try to cross the river in the night, where she was more prone to slipping if only because she couldn't see as well, Zelda decided to simply make camp where the Bokoblins had been. It didn't have the huge pile of refuse many of their camps did, only a pile of old, well-cleaned bones. While she suspected some people would be bothered by the sight, it didn't make her uncomfortable in the least. It was just minerals now, anyway. As long as this night wasn't a Blood Moon, she should be fine, and maybe a traveler could use a place to rest and some company.

She would just have to be 'Zina' again.

The coals in the firepit might still have been warm when she reached it, if they hadn't been scattered about a thirty-foot or more spread. Thankfully, Zelda knew enough about survival in the wilds thanks to long-forgotten memories that rebuilding the firepit and getting a new set of coals going was easy. There was even ample wood nearby, as a few bombs demolished not only the watchtower the chest had been on, but their crude furniture (aside from three stumps she left as chairs) and a couple of nearby trees, too. The largest chunks would burn for hours, and the smaller ones made great kindling.

Soon her fire was hot, and the flat stone she found on the riverside nearby, propped up with several taller ones over the coals, was starting to smoke and sizzle as she threw testing droplets of water on it. Zelda smiled. This would be the first time she dared have a meal she cooked herself since leaving the plateau. She hadn't wanted to risk a fire anywhere except the old man's cabin even there. A few roasted vegetables, mushrooms, and apples was one thing, but now she had fish, lamb, fox, venison, mutton, and eggs too. She even had some crude spices in the form of herbs and rock salt.

Unless she screwed it up somehow, it would be a veritable feast compared to every meal she'd had since the cabin except the one Giro had cooked, and Zelda couldn't wait.

She lost track of time, consumed by the simple joy of creation. Dozens of dishes, cooked in small batches in separate quadrants of the large, flat sone at the same time, had Zelda's mouth watering. No traveler came by while she was cooking, lured in by the smell, so she simply ate one of the salt-grilled fish and a second venison steak, kept more grilling, started on a couple of mushroom and fruit skewers, and prepared more. For three hours she cooked and cooked, until her ingredient stores were running low but her prepared meals numbered in the fifty-plus range. She had some, especially the simpler meals, prepared since the plateau, but now she had some for cold weather, for hot, some to increase her strength if she never needed it (ranging, she hoped, from an increase to put her at a slightly more muscular man than her own somewhat lithe, feminine form to that of a giant), some that made her skin hard like wood or stone, to restore energy and stamina if she needed endurance, her eyesight and dexterity, and plenty of just simple meals to eat in a hurry or on the go. It was nearly midnight when Zelda, eyes bleary but stomach more than sated for the first time since leaving the cabin too (even Giro's had not filled her belly as much as this meal had, for it was a normal volume instead of three), Zelda stretched herself out on a pile of leaves she had made while the first meals cooked, and closed her eyes.