He needs further training.

Dewayne's chest was heaving to catch his breath, and man-sweat soaked his face and body, but Rhiamon appeared to be ready to dance again.

"Rest a moment, before I exhaust you," Rhiamon observed, "But I sense the masculine energy in you is not reduced. It is sun magic, your life energy."

He accepted that he had no idea what she was describing and that she knew it just by looking at him. He realized he could keep no secret thought from her keen perceptions.

"Now, Melicious will train you further," Rhiamon told him.

The younger woman, or priestess, walked up, seeing him sprawled on the ground, and commanded him to stand at attention as a military man might do if he were Dewayne's commanding officer.

Taking no offense and just accepting what was happening to him, he stood at military attention, still breathing heavily.

She inspected him a moment, then took hold of his kilt and unbuckled the belt, taking it away as it slid off of him.

He never saw that kilt again.

He kept his gaze straight forward, not daring to look at her. He feared his now exposed cock was insufficient for her preference. He felt ashamed that he did not have more to offer her. He almost covered his genitals with both hands, but he knew that disobedience would destroy any respect she might have for him.

Prince Dewayne felt ashamed and inadequate.

He knew she would immediately recognize that his phallus had swollen from Rhiamon's attention, but surely she must also notice that her presence had his blood pulsing into his shaft like his body wanted to inflate it further than his flesh could stretch.

He felt he should apologize to her for not measuring up to her standards (nor his own) and for not having the self-assurance to stand before her humbly without the internal struggle to run away and cover himself.

Suddenly her eyes were right in front of his. Melicious looked right into his weak and insecure soul.

"You are no hero, though often you try to be one," she said correctly as if she saw his entire life in his eyes, "but fear not. Do not bemoan what you might lack. For this task, you must only be willing to give all you are."

Dewayne was dispirited that his inadequacy was confirmed by an omniscient woman, but he was then filled with a humble conviction that he would do what must be done to protect the kingdom of Athenia.

He tried to show in his eyes his surrender to her goal.

"As Rhiamon changed herself, so I shall change you this time. And then you will learn to trust: Trust us... and trust yourself."

He was mystified at that prospect, but he had no time to think nor ask.

Melicious took him in her arms, bent him over, kissed him full on the lips, and probed his tongue as only a newlywed husband might to his bride on their wedding night.

He swooned with sexual passion and felt his body floating away.

When she took her lips away, and he reopened his eyes, he found he had changed. He was looking out from another man's body. He was a giant with long platinum blond hair and tremendous physical strength, but his small phallus had no stamina, and he would often release his semen after a few seconds of feeling a woman's sweet grip on him. Yet, a dozen years ago he offered his whole self with all his weaknesses and strengths to the wise witches, and his spirit still guards these woods today.

He was a giant with long platinum blond hair and tremendous physical strength...

Melicious gripped his genitals and pulled him into a different time and into a different body.

This time he was a druid of potent magical power. He read the warning signs of invasion and told the three wise witches where to send their animal companion to learn more specifics. Just last night he gave them all his magical power and all his masculine life energy to use as they willed, for he knew they were much wiser than he.

This time he was a druid of potent magical power.

Again and again, she placed him in the bodies of men greater and lesser than he. Some were heroes undoubtedly. But others were simple men who only knew that they had to help.

Once he was a highland lumberjack who wore his kilt open in the front.

Once he was a Viking who thought it more respectful to hold his woolen hat over his genitals in the presence of powerful women.

Once he was a shepherd with a hairy back who understood few words in any language.

And once he was a nobleman with some elfin blood in him, who felt more comfortable in the nude regardless who saw him.

When Melicious returned him to the here and now, he wept tears of relief streaming down his face.

"I do trust you," he told her, "like all my predecessors. And I will give whatever of me you can use."