A Girl And Her Lantern

Radovan braced himself as another gust of wind hit him in the face. Squinting he looked through the heavy rain and the darkness of the night. He could barely see the shapes of the branches just before they appeared in front of him.

Then he spotted a curious thing. A flickering light far away. Now and then it vanished as branches of trees swayed around. Was it one of those restless ghosts? Will O wisps his grandmother called them. Was it a lost soul sensing a person soon to join it?

Caught in the darkness and heavy rain, what choice had Radovan. His clothes were drenched through and through. The cold had already penetrated his skin and bones. With his last strength, he turned towards the light.

As he came closer Radovan knew he might be saved. The light belonging to a storm lantern heavily swaying in the storm. It was bolted over a door of a big house looming in the darkness. Normally Radovan would avoid such foreboding places, but desperation drove him forward.

The heavy brass knob felt slick in his hands as he lifted it with his last strength. The knocking startled him, as the sound broke the roar of the storm around him. Again and again, he tried. Hoping whoever lit the lantern would hear him.

He nearly missed the sound of a deadbolt. The door opened and an old man with weathered skin and gray hair peeked out through. Before Radovan could plea for help the man opened the door wide.

"Come in. Quick. This night the devil is loose. No mortal should be out," the old man said with a rasping voice.

Radovan hurried to step inside. Once the door was closed behind him he needed a moment to find his voice. "Thank you. My horse fell ... I didn't think someone would be around here. I saw your lantern and ..."

"Did you see the lantern or just its light? Ahh, forgive me and my manners. My name is Damir Zec."

"Radovan. Radovan Kapic."

"Yes. Yes. Hurry. We need to get you out of those wet cloth or sickness might befall you. I have seen it more than enough in my lifetime," Damir urged him. He pulled out thick warm blankets and Radovan took them gratefully. The old man was right. A cold not treated could kill a man. With shaking fingers he undid the knots on his mantel, shirt, and trousers.

By the time Radovan was wrapped in the blankets Damir brought over a cup of steaming hot tea. The warm liquid burned his tongue but was mercifully warm in his stomach.

"You said you saw my lantern," Damir commented while slowly sitting down.

Radovan nodded. "Saw it from, what feels like, a mile away."

"You saw the light. Aye. But did you saw the lantern? Did you really saw it?" Damir urged him. "Look around."

On Damir's behest, Radovan glanced around. Around them, dozens of lanterns hang around. Only three of them burned, but their light was bright and warm. Illuminating the whole room. Curious, Radovan stepped closer and gasped. Inside the lantern, a girl of maybe eighteen summers danced sensually. She was no bigger than the width of Radovan's own hand. The girl danced in the nude and he could see her pale skin and hair. All of it had the pale and translucent appearance of candle wax. Above her, a clear white flame flickered in the rhythm of her dance steps.

"Don't be alarmed," came Damir's voice from behind him. "It is what I do. I make them. These lanterns. They are the brightest in the world and last for days. The girls ... They aren't hurt. Lost souls of the woods. I gave them a new form and a new purpose."

"Will O wisps..." Radovan murmured. He looked at the tiny woman dancing for him. The top of her head was missing, yet she danced without a care in the world. Unconcerned that the flame gnawed at her body.

"They won't die," Damir softly added. "Once they burn down the flame extinguish itself and slowly they regain their body. Now. Now. It is late. We talk more in the morning. Come. I have a warm bed for you. It was the bed of my daughters."

Radovan nodded. A warm bed sounded very alluring. Yet he needed a moment to free his gaze from the girl in the lantern.

The bed felt strange, yet good. He hadn't asked the old man what happened to his daughter. He appeared to live alone. Yet the bed was ready and quite obviously one for a woman or girl. Fine silken bed sheets and blankets caressed his skin. He always thought of silk as cool, yet the softness around him brought a heat to him.

Was it the warmth or the strange unfamiliar material that made sleep elude him? Despite being exhausted by the walk through the storm and rain Radovan could find no relief in the form of sleep. All he could feel was the silk on his skin as the room was filled with darkness. Even the patter of rain was strangely muted.

His hands roamed over his body. Pressing and sliding the silken sheets against him. Why had he never felt something this divine before? His hands reached something hard. Clearly, the alien sensations got to him as his manhood stood firm and stiff at attention.

Radovan knew it was wrong, yet he couldn't help himself. One of his hands found its way beneath the sheets. Strange. His hand felt as silken as the blanket as it glided downward on his body. He gasped as he found the hard rod between his legs. On a well-honed instinct, he started to pump up and down. It felt good. Better than normal. Was it the bed and the silken material that changed the experience? His lust-riddled mind didn't care. All that counted was to satisfy his urge. Time lost meaning, yet his urge only increased. No matter how hard or fast, or soft and slow he worked. The peak eluded him.

His frantic movements must have slipped him further under the blanket. As it slowly traveled upwards, it tangled with his arms. Annoyed he pushed the blanket off of him. It also cleared the way for his second hand. It joined the first, yet found little to grasp. The once proud rod between his legs now barely fitted one hand. Let alone two. Radovan didn't care. It felt better than ever before. With every pump of his hand, it felt a little smaller, but also much more sensitive. Overwhelmed by his lust he wanted to feel his manhood shrink further. To increase the rush of its heavenly sensation.

Soon it got hard to even grasp it. Radovan pushed himself up into a seating position. He drew up his shins so they were parallel to his tights and spread his legs wide. This position provided so much better access. Yet when he reached down again, silken hair fell over his shoulder and caressed his nipples.

Confused, yet intrigued he felt for his nipples. He found more than he ever remembered. Underneath his fingers, hard and big nubs greeted him. Seemingly wired directly to his own arousal. They throned on pliable soft mounds of flesh. Kneading it he felt the long silken strands of hair trapped under his hands and provided a soft smooth feeling. His hair had never been this long, but once again Radovan didn't cared about it. All that counted was the sensations.

Need drew one of his hands down again and found the hard nub between his legs. Now barely large enough to grasp between two fingers. Rubbing it brought an arching he had never felt before. Desperately he increased the rate of his strokes. He didn't mind as a slick wetness helped him to glide over it or the folds that formed around it and guided his fingers.

Suddenly one of Radovan's fingers found its way inside of his flesh. Gasping in a cute high pitched moan he couldn't help, but to feel around. It felt so good that his second hand abandoned his needy nipples and moved down on its own. Both of his hands layered on the newly formed mound and both middle fingers plunged together in the newfound cavity.

A moment later he finally exploded in an enormous orgasm. He moaned out his overwhelming relief in a cute breathy voice. His back arched and pushed his stiff nipples forward. Snapping his head back and flinging his full, long, and curly mane over his back.

His breathing slowed as the high ebbed away. Finally, he drifted off to sleep.

The grating of the door woke Radovan. He tried to turn his head but found it un-moving. No matter how much he tried no part of his body listened to his will. He felt himself sitting on the silken bedsheets. His legs folded, yet spread wide apart. With his back arched, it pushed his chest outward. His head was still turned upward and he felt his long hair mating his back. With eyes closed, he was still pitched in darkness.

Now, after the need was gone, he could think clearly again. Memories of the night before rushed through him and slowly his mind deciphered the strange and alien sensations. The stiff nipples resting on mounds of flesh. Breasts. His shrinking manhood and growing of folds and a cavity. A vagina. The high and soft moans escaping his throat. He had turned into ...

"You turned out beautifully," the old man Damir commented. Startling Radovan with his loud and booming voice. "I must admit it is a nice pose you chose for me."

Radovan wanted to snap back and demand answers. Yet his body didn't move an inch. He couldn't even blush as he realized what sight he must present. His hands still cupped the mound of his newly formed pussy. Both his middle fingers still buried deep within. As his arms stretched straight down they slightly pushed his new tits against each other.

An inviting display, Radovan had to admit. One he wouldn't mind seeing. Yet he never dreamed he would offer it.

"Don't be afraid. You don't need to worry anymore. A lost soul of the woods you ain't no more. With me, you have a new life and purpose.

Radovan would have gasped if he still could move, as a rough calloused hand grabbed him. Not just part of him, but his whole body. His body had not just changed last night. He had shrunken too and hadn't even noticed it. Just how small was he now? Unbidden the image of the dancing girl in the lantern came to his mind. Radovan was lifted up and he had the overwhelming feeling he knew what he had become and what awaited him.

"Let me show you your new home. You will like it. Believe me, you will. All my daughters like their homes. But first, you need a name. Hmm. How about Tereza? Ah yes. I think that fits. Welcome, Tereza, to my family."

Helplessly he felt being carried away. Not for long as he heard the slight squeal of a small door. A lantern he guessed. Soon he felt being lowered to the cold brass floor. Strangely he didn't mind the cold anymore. It was a trivial sensation as moonlight falling on his skin.

For a while, nothing happened, but small sounds of the old man working. Radovan heard tools and the sound of metal against metal. Yet without sight, the purpose eluded him. After a small eternity, he felt his lantern being carefully picked up and then placed down. Now the sounds of the tools appeared louder. Suddenly cold metal touched his left ankle. Pinning it to the floor. A wide metal band soon wielded his left thigh down as well. The same metal adored soon his right leg.

"Now, my dear daughter Tereza, you can't fall about. No matter how much the wind might rattle your home. You will be safe. Now you are ready."

Panic gripped Radovan as he heard the spark of a flame. He wanted to scream as he slowly felt the warmth of the flame coming closer. Light and vision burst around him the moment his body caught the flame. He could see again. The old man before him. Now tall as a giant. The workshop around him with many tools scattered around. Closest to him were the glass and delicate metalwork of the lantern. His new home.

Much to his surprise, he saw himself. As if he was floating above himself. Witnessed the lewd display his new feminine body presented for the whole world. It dawned on him. He was the pale girl made of white wax below him. But he also was the flame, bound to consume his new body.

Already he could feel the heat nibbling at the shock of his hair. He feared pain, but soon a strange euphoria enveloped him. His body was fuel to his flame. A delectable morsel to feed himself. Soon he wanted more. To burn faster and brighter. Yet the pace was slow and maddening.

Steadily the warmth of his own flame spread through his body of wax. He moaned, but no sound escaped his mouth. Yet his mouth moved as if he could. Where the heat penetrated his flesh of wax control and movement returned. Soon he could open his eyes. Blinking in confusion of the strange double vision provided by eyes and flame. Then his arms started to move again. Curious he reached above in his flame and twitched in bliss as his whole hand inflamed in delight. It was too much and let his hand drop down.

But he couldn't let his hands rest. The pleasure ignited from above traveled downward and soon he explored his body with delight. Felt the heft of his new and sensitive breasts. Traced the contours of his new softly curving body.

Just like the girl he had witnessed the day before he wanted to dance. Yet with the metal bands pinning him down he could only twist and turn in a sensuous flow. His hands roaming his body for hours. Now and then sneaking down to his pussy to bring about an orgasm.

When it dawned outside his flame reached his eyes and slowly one vision consumed the other. Not that Radovan minded much. He was consumed by the feeling of pearls of molten wax slowly gliding down his body. Leaving a trail of sensitive and erogenous skin. Soon he desired and longed for the next pearl to start its travel downward. Caught in his hands and plunged in his hot and bothered sex. To be used as lube to fuel the next orgasm.

By the next morning, his flame had consumed the whole of his head. Now, for an observer, it might appear as if the flame was his head. He might have giggled if he had still a mouth and lungs. Not that it could be heard anyways.

By the second evening, his shoulders were gone. Thankfully his arms had slid down along his body and his fingers plunged in his sex. Worried, that if he let go, that his hands wouldn't find their way back. And he needed them there. Desperately so. Slowly the line of molten wax traveled down and Radovan was overwhelmed with need the more his breasts were consumed by his flame. As his nipples started to melt all thoughts scattered as an orgasm wracked through him. One that didn't ebb away after a minute. It lasted an eternity and while it lasted Radovan could only twitch in ecstasy.

He caught himself as the last bit of his nipples traveled downward molten like the rest of his upper body. Exhausted he revealed in the calm that followed. Used the hours that followed to gather his strength and his fragile mind. Slowly he witnessed as his flame burned away his torso and started on his hips. Only his hands remained. Still plunged deep in his sex. And that was what he dreaded, yet longed for eagerly.

Maddeningly slow, yet at a constant pace, his flame ate its way towards his most sensible spot. Soon he felt the heat of the flame joining the heat of arousal in his cavern of need. As it started to gnaw at the fold Radovan lost it. He was torn away by a torrent of bliss as an orgasm unlike anything ever felt wracked through him. It was heaven. Hell. Just too much. He passed out from sensations not meant for mortals.

Radovan awoke again in darkness. Just like last time, he couldn't move his body. Not that there was a lot to move. He felt his legs and part of his lower torso. His hands cupping his sex. Middle fingers buried in his sex. Part of his forearms attached.

What he didn't feel was his flame or its warmth penetrating his body. Without it, he was cold and blind. He wondered what would happen now to him. With his body all but consumed.

Time gave meaning and hope. Slowly, slower than the pace of his flame consuming his body, he regenerated himself. His torso grew upward and his forearms regained their elbows. The chest widened as his breasts formed anew. The newly forming shoulder reconnected his arms to his body. A long and slender neck made way for his beautiful feminine face. Lastly, his long strands of wax hair sneaked down his back.

He knew his body was ready. To be reignited. But all the time he asked himself if his mind was too.

Time itself stretched endlessly when all you could do was hear. The sound of the old man working or gently speaking to his lantern girls. Now and then he heard other names. Mirjana was the dancer he had witnessed on that fateful first night.

Karolina was stuck in an even more lewd position than Radovan. At least accordingly to the old man. Apparently, she liked to pose in very lewd positions too.

Valerija liked to pose as if she was innocence incarnate. While Jelena liked to grind herself against the delicate metalwork of her lantern.

Of course, the old man talked to Radovan too. Called him by his new name. Tereza. As much as he hated it to admit it the name slowly grew on Radovan. Tereza. Not a bad name. But still, he didn't care much for it or for the talks with the other girls. All he wanted was a little spark of a flame.

It was a stormy night and the shutters banged angrily against the windows. It reminded him of the one that led him to this very house and his current fate. A hard and loud knocking excited Radovan and the old man Damir alike. Radovan listened intensely as the old man opened the door.

"Greetings. I am sorry to intrude so late." Radovan's heart would have beaten harder if he still had one. He knew that voice. Kresimir. It had to be him.

"I am looking for a friend. His name is Radovan Kapic. I haven't heard from him in a fortnight and I fear the worst. Have you seen him?"

"I haven't seen anyone, but you and my girls," old man Damir lied. "But please come in. It is cold and windy outside. Let me offer you at least some warmth and tea. My name is Damir Zec. I am just a humble lantern maker."

"A lantern maker? Out here?" Kresimir wondered aloud.

"Well, not just any lanterns. Take a look. You will see they are special," the old man urged Radovan's friend.

"These candles... They look like girls and ... Oh by all that is holy some are moving! How is this possible?" Kresimir inquired.

"Old magic," old man Damir supplied. "I gather the lost wayward souls of these woods and bind them. Now they do no harm anymore and they are quite happy. Come. Over here. This is my newest girl. I call her Tereza."

Radovan grew excited as the two man stepped closer. Would his friend recognize him? Was rescue finally within grasp?

"She is beautiful," commented his friend. It split Radovan in two. His hopes squashed, yet oddly elated that he thought Radovan was beautiful.

"Why isn't she moving like the others?" Kresimir wanted to know.

"Ahh. Her spark is missing," Damir explained. "Only lit they gain life. Burning brightly till their flame is extinguished. But do not frown. None of my girls feel the bite of death. Once cold they grow again. Would you like to see her burn and come alive?"

Kresimir must have nodded as the old man continued. "Take a splint and light it from the fire over there. Then gently light her near her head. It might take a while till she moves. Maybe encourage her a little. Call her out by her name. Tereza."

Radovan's mind raced. There was no rescue and soon he would be plunged in the wild ride of flame and bliss again. By no other than his friend. Dread filled him. Was there no escape from his fate. The sound of his lantern being opened and the crackling of a small flame stopped his thinking.

Then the world exploded around him in light and colors as his tiny flame ignited. Once again he could see and before him was the familiar face of Kresimir.

"Come on little Tereza. Please wake up for me. I want to see your pretty smile Tereza," his friend beckoned him and it strangely echoed within Radovan. He wanted to move, but his flame hadn't spread enough warmth through his body yet. If he could move then maybe he could warn Kresimir.

"Come on sleepy head. Time to come alive Tereza." It was shocking how intensely Kresimir was watching him. No, not him. Kresimir had never watched him intensely like this. But Tereza was fascinating to his friend. Like a moth, he was drawn in by Tereza's flame.

"Please. Tereza. For me. Open your eyes." Not Radovan, but Tereza did. He knew that he couldn't be Kresimir's friend anymore. But Tereza, she could be something to him. What exactly eluded her.

"Ahh. Hi, Tereza. My name is Kresimir." Tereza nodded. That was all she could do for now. She wanted to do more and when she finally could move her arms she moved one of her arms to hide her breasts.

"Oh, don't be shy Tereza," he urged her. It nearly broke her heart to see his crestfallen face. Slowly her arm slid down again and his smile returned. Was it his smile or the spreading warmth of her flame that made her nipples stand attention. His gentle urging spurred her on. Gradually she became bolder. Pinching her nipples. Letting her hands roam her body or tossing her head and hair for him. Mesmerized he watched her and Teresa ate up the attention. She needed it and yet needed more. She wanted to be the only thing in his universe and never wanted to let him go.

The forceful and loud clearing of a throat broke the moment for Teresa and Kresimir. It was the old man Demir. "I see you quite like her. I don't mind, but perhaps you would rest for now. It had gotten late. Tomorrow she will still be here and you can watch her all day."

Hesitant Kresimir nodded. Tereza pouted. She didn't want to let him go. It would mean ... A shocked expression flashed over her face. Would he end up like her? Caught in a small female body in a cycle of intense bliss and desperate longing. She bit her lip as she felt herself grow even hotter and more bothered. Was that so bad? She gave a nod and motioned her friend to go to sleep. Even gave him a brilliant smile. Today she had lost herself as Radovan and found herself as Teresa. Now she will lose her old friend, but tomorrow. Tomorrow she will gain a new sister. The thought turned her on and even more when she imagined that maybe, just maybe she could share her lantern with her new sister. That thought alone pushed her over the brink to a shattering orgasm. The first of many more to come.

The end.



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