"We both know it's not that simple, Marina." The human girl said, as she strolled into the bathroom of the small motel-room, barely clad in a pink, string bikini. "We've come a long way, but in competitions like these, the days right before the contest can be the most crucial for preparation." explained the tanned, tall human matter-of-factly.
"I know, I know." The 'girl' in the bathroom was closely examining her enormous mammaries with a tracing finger and critical eye as she reclined amidst the soapy comfort of the bathtub. From beneath the suds, a silvery tail that shimmered silver poked through, fish-fin the size of a frisbee flopping lazily in the bathroom air. Above her, the flashing panoply of light from a small, wall-mounted T.V. set conveyed lurid images of day-time, talk-show hijinks. That was something Marina had insisted upon; the bathroom *must* have a T.V. Her silvery, piscine tail swayed hypnotically in the air; a sure sign of her anxiety. Which was why she was in the tub, really. Marina, like most mermaids needed to be in water to truly relax, and on the eve of what awaited the pair, relaxation was in short supply.
"How's your sensitivity?" the human asked, her auburn hair in a tight bun as she leaned over, genuinely concerned about her fae friend. There was only one way to answer that question. From below Mariana's clavicle, the sweep began. Jutting breasts of prodigious size blossomed forth upon the mermaid's chest; gazing down from her perspective, the thrust of boob shot forward 12 inches, a little more than a foot long in length of the tenderest flesh. Her delicate finger traced a journey from the shadowy cleft in the center, through a gob of soap bubbles, onto the beginnings of the sharp slope of mammary. The finger's journey brought it the full length of a new pencil around the bulging heft to the side, and below the warm, wet boob. And by then, past the juncture between her arm and torso, her touch had still not yet reached the front of the slope, the pinnacle of the rosy-tipped mountain of femininity, one of a perfect pair. It took...well, almost the length of another pencil before her scraping finger, encountering no noticeable friction, reached the proud nub of pink flesh adorning her bulbous breasts.
She blew, a quick gust of cool air. Her aureoles seemed to widen and stretch, and her pert nipples swelled up, rising to attention. The nubs almost doubling in length, hardening with prickles of sensation. The Mermaid shook her head, brushing a strand of silvery-white hair away from her luminous, blue eyes.
"Only double their natural size!" she wailed.
"Hey, hey, don't talk like that!" chastised the human, donning a pair of plastic sunglasses. "You know it's all about attitude!"
"You're right Violet, what would I ever do without you?" asked Marina, smiling.
"You'd drop out of school, spend all your time screwing surfers while listening to Rap music." Violet said, as if she were discussing the weather. Marina giggled.
"Guilty as charged; I guess you know me too well." The human strapped on a pair of black, plastic boots with wheeled inlines.
"I'm gonna go rollerblading to blow off some steam. Wanna come?"
"Nah, I'll just chill for awhile."
"Have fun!" And with that, the human was off. Even with her back facing Marina, It was plain that Violet was not like other girls. From afar, it seemed that she must be wearing a backpack hanging over her chest. Only when closer, as Marina was, could it be seen that she carried no satchel, but rather the swaying, soft mounds were flesh. Titflesh.
Marina couldn't help but be encouraged at the human's progress; so many humans afflicted with preposterous breasts became recluses, shutting themselves away in fear and horror at their deformity. But those days were fading; since Magic returned to the Earth, the cases of runaway fertility spells, dubious potions of lactation, and misfiring amulets of womanhood had come with a price; The innumerable libido spells conjured both by and at human women could easily backfire. But that didn't bother Violet anymore; she had resolved that her breasts would *never* slow her down, even though they did weight almost 30 pounds. But these days, it wasn't so difficult as in those first, early years.
Her human friend was going forth proudly, onto the beach, in a string bikini specially designed to accommodate her Double K-cup bosom. Marina didn't really understand bra-sizes, but anyone could see how big the girl was. It had taken the human years to finally become strong enough to walk as she once did. Most impressive, and Marina owed a lot to the human. Really, there were two reasons why Marina had come here, to Panama City Beach, Violet was one of them. As for the other....
Marina recited a brief litany of mystical words in an arcane tongue, a litany that she could easily recite in her sleep. The air shimmered as the fae completed her spell; tiny twinkles of sparkling light appeared in the air, nearby the silver-scaled fish tail poking from beneath the suds, where the legs would have been on a human. The tail blurred, shimmered, rippling as though vibrating rapidly. Then; it melted. The halves of her fish-fin separated, blurring and shimmering...elongating, lightening in color.
She pinioned her human legs, examining them in the fluorescent light. Sleek curves, good muscle tone without being intimidating, and dainty feet. She flexed her cottony-soft, alabaster toes. Up close, one could see a sparkling pattern of iridescent patches seemingly beneath the skin, shining like flecks of mother-of-pearl; the last vestige of her piscine anatomy. The few men that noticed it said it made her more exotic. She rose and glided out of the tub, and then the bathroom. Years ago, when she had first mastered the Land-walking spell, she had been unsteady and awkward walking on human legs, but Marina had by now fully adapted to life on Earth, as well as walking.
She'd watched enough T.V., and frankly she needed to get herself off. Upon entering the main motel room, she opened the blinds revealing a first-floor view of the beach. A human woman would have been scandalized at the thought of strangers on a beach being able to see her naked, sudsy body with but a glance through the glass; but as a fae, that was Marina's fervent hope. Like all fae, Marina was indeed a slut, and yet....well it wasn't quite that simple. There were many delicious human males that would love the chance to bury themselves into her moist, very human-looking cunt. And she knew it, she had come to understand the male animal, because ever since coming to Earth, the male sex drive had been her preoccupation.
With a throaty sigh, she threw her naked, nubile form upon one of the motel beds, and dragged out a walkman from her gym bag. She attached earphones to her head and selected a CD track at random. Yes...yes....more wondrous than all the pearlescent splendor of the jewel-encrusted, underwater cities mermaids lived in back on Faerie. Marina had never really liked her home that much; with magic declining, and the Fae races waning, her underwater home had been almost consigned to doom. For the water-dwelling fae had suffered the worst. As magic faded, Fae fertility declined, females becoming far out of proportion to their males. No where was this clearer than in the seas of Faerie. Marina couldn't remember when she'd seen a man. Yes, the land-dwellers had some men. Those few remaining. But her terrestrial cousins horded their males; since their wasn't enough cock to go around for the elves, pixies, and nymphs on land, how could they possibly share with the mermaids or water nymphs; whose males had faded away long ago?
Back home, back on faerie it was nothing but women. Everywhere Marina went were women doing female things, having feminine discussions. For year after year after year. She really didn't know how long, and if pressed, couldn't really tell you even how old she was; time progressing differently on Faerie. The mermaid knew only that it had been a long, long time, and that she came to loathe the place. There were no words to express her joy when the Conjunction occurred; when fae began the Great Crossing back to the Earth. Marina could only express her joy by rutting away on the hard dicks of the abundant, male population.
Blaring in her delicate ears where lewd, crude sounds of morally offensive rap music. Angry, aggressive diatribes against society, government, and humans with different shades of skin. Marina had discovered this sort of music at about the same time she realized her problem; and at the same time her mission. At first, she thought that breeding once or twice would satisfy her, and that her life would be much the same as that of a human woman's. But she was thwarted by her own primal, lustful instinct. The more Marina had sex, the more she was filled with cock, the greater became her hunger. Each time she gave birth to another half-human daughter, she felt even more aware of her womanhood, even more sexual, even more instinctively slutty. Human women she met often felt satisfied after giving birth to 3 or 4 children, unwilling to suffer the process again. Yet with the silver-haired mermaid, each birthing only made her hunger for more. In time, her true purpose was clear; she could count on no one but herself to repopulate the aquatic fae. There were so few left, and fewer still that made the Crossing. Marina would need to birth a nation from her fertile loins.
And yet....she came to realize that most human males were not suitable for her particular need. The pulse-pounding beat of the rappers in her ears reminded her of her resolution, as she ran her hand over ample bosom, down through the flat plane of her belly, to rub against her now-human pussy, before tickling her new legs. She needed not just any man, but rather the rudest, most aggressive, most angry humans. She could no longer tolerate fawning, polite men that tried to woo her with clever wit. She needed the dangerous humans, the most violent. That was why she loved the Rap music; these men were eternally angry, boasted freely of committing dangerous crimes within this highly-structured modern society. Their derring-do, their unrepentant aggression, and most of all their passionate lusts stirred the Mermaid's soul.
She couldn't stop laughing when she watched that old, Disney cartoon of 'The Little Mermaid'. *This* mermaid didn't need or want a handsome 'Prince Charming' to woo her with flower petals and moonlit strolls. She wanted to be Taken. Taken by a thug. Ravished like the lusty wench she was. She would lay back like this, envisioning her favorite Rap-stars, these seething, angry humans. She envisioned what they would do to her if she fell into their power. She shuddered with the imagining of the coarse, powerful hands upon her silky-smooth, faerie flesh. If these unabashedly lustful thugs could see her now, a naked girl with breasts bigger than honey-dew melons, writhing in ecstatic yearning upon a hotel bed, listening with rapt attention to their own music..if only. She almost didn't need the sex-toy she withdrew next from her gym bag.
To call the Lothario-3000 a dildo was an insult. The device was composed of the finest latex, internal vibrators, and even a gel-pack heated with exothermic chemical reactions to better simulate the real thing. Marina of course, had chosen the black one; truly a work of art; though such conveniences had become big-business with the arrival of the Fae. She imagined it was a cock from one of these wrathful, libidinous rappers; men that would claim her, men that would ravish her. It was what both she, and all aquatic fae needed. There would be hard times ahead; the survival of her kind would demand hard choices, hard decisions, and harder men. Aggressive, risk-taking men. Uncompromising males of great ambition and greater lust. Her womb would breed males that would not ask permission, but would take what they could. And as such, that was the only sort of man Marina would allow to impregnate her anymore.
She was at once an easy lay, and untouchable. She resolved never to respond to niceties, or the impassioned pleas of love from her soft-hearted suitors; instead she would tease. Tease and torment with naked, flawless flesh. She would flaunt her abundant bosom and fertile figure, naked when possible, in shameless disregard for propriety. She would never reward witty jokes, or sensitive banter; the man that wanted her would have to claim her. As the rappers continued their semi-musical outrage in her ears, she envisioned the man that would someday possess her like an object; The very notion offended her, and made her pussy moist at the same time. He would be a rough and savage human, a man she would fear. And her fear would make her magically-created knees weak with lust.
She didn't talk about these desires much with her human girlfriends; she suspected that they would be unable to comprehend her dire need to be ravished, dominated, and impregnated. All this time on Earth, through some wretched fae curse, she had only borne daughters. But she was persistent; someday her womb would bear a male. The father of her future son would not ask, would not beg, he would take her, claim her. She would be his little Sea-bitch. He needn't even be a rapper, or athlete. Almost any man willing to actually grab her breasts would possess them. If a man was willing to slap her ripe, bulging ass, he could have it. She would be his bitch, and her belly would swell with male offspring, that the aquatic fae might go on.
She almost didn't need the dildo, pistoning in and out, in and out of the slippery heat of her cunt. The voice of her favorite singers almost driving her to orgasm through the power of their own 'bad-boy' charm. It was then that she lost control. It was her tits, of course. One of the reasons why she had come here; Violet was the first, motivating Marina, helping her to work towards their mutual goal, fae being notoriously lacking in discipline. The second reason was her tits.
While listening to her walkman, the Mermaid's fingers began gripping her warm mammaries; her fingers on each hand grasping, middle and ring-fingers on either side of each erect nipple. That was when the growth started. Her breasts, larger already than that of most any 20th century porn star began to warm, throb, and stretch. No, not quite stretching, the entirety of each tit simply increased itself, and her fingers were being carried apart; as the flesh they gripped expanded and engorged, amidst throaty moans. The process had begun; the magical process that Marina knew she had control over. The dull, warm throb began in the center of each tit, as her hands were gradually pushed apart, widening the span of her fingers, while boobs already the size of bowling balls transcended themselves. But such powers came with a price.
The throaty moan tore itself from the mermaid's pouty lips as the burning, tingling sensation began in all her erogenous zones. She felt the magic, as her breasts grew, she would become ever more fertile. She quivered, almost loosing her grip on the dildo as her pussy began to jerk and throb. As the seconds dragged on, the rising tide of inflating bosom began to obscure her view of her feet; her perfect, human-looking feet that she was so proud of were eclipsed from her perspective as bowling balls became basketballs, and larger still. As she writhed in ecstasy, for a moment it became hard to remember whether she still had her magically-conjured woman's legs, or her natural mermaid's tail. A shimmering tingle passed throughout her slender body, Marina arched her back in a gurgling cry; the heady combination of Rap music, and her superior dildo was pushing her beyond the limits of control.
She smelled it then; a thick, cloying, briny scent. Her own unique blend of Fae mating musk. Marina's blend was especially thick, she believed that her body was responding to the low population of aquatic fae with an added intensity to her own sexual attractant. Soon, the room was thick with the enchanted aroma exuding from her fae pussy. The only sensation diminishing her erotic utopia was the intense pressure deep in her tits. Raising a pink nipple to her soft lips, she suckled her own overgrown mammaries. It always gave the mermaid a dirty thrill to savor the nutritious nectar her body produced....*mmm* syrupy sweet...so rich....Whenever her breast milk became this sweet, it meant that she was at the peak of her fertility. Her boobs quivered, slipping from her lips, and both nipples unleashed a white spray of lactation upon the bed covers.
On reflection, perhaps it was better that there was no man in this room to see the over-endowed mermaid in her aroused nudity. The way her pheromone musk had permeated the room, even the most shy, reclusive nerd would become overwhelmed by her attractant. The weakest, most cowardly of human men would be driven berserk at the thickness and potency of the rut musk her cunt produced. Any man would attack her, pinning her to the bed in his maddening urge to impregnate the receptive fae. She needed a man to lay claim to her, and to do so because he was filled with ambition, determined to take risks to get what he wanted, not because her mating musk was burning in his blood.
As her body flailed, her gaze was cast out to the blue expanse of the Caribbean Sea offshore. So warm and inviting; in a few short years, it would be the fruit of *her* loins that would swim in those seas. So soon, faerie creatures squeezed from *her* cunt would populate the oceans of the Earth. She only needed her man, the right man. Willing to ignore the laws, codes, statutes, and traditions of this society to claim her as his bitch. The orgasm came as the rappers on the CD spoke of how they treated their "Ho's." And what might they do to her? She stretched her sleek legs, pointing her toes as she envisioned the virile might of one of her rap stars. What might such a man do to her soft, vulnerable, fae-flesh? She rarely spoke of such desires to her human friends. Human women just wouldn't understand her need to be taken....
**********
She had been wrong; all wrong. Viviana knew now of her mistake. The door of the ladies' room swung open, and the demented gleam in the woman's hungry eyes seem more appropriate for a Fae than a human. And the busty, Hispanic girl knew that the Fae were not far off. There he was....there was her date. He had spent a good deal of money to wine and dine her, and it was wasted. All a waste.
Ah yes...there came the drooping jaws, the widened eyes as the deluded humans beheld her glory. Already, her breasts had been fantastic for a human; perky, yet full globes of tawny mammary, capped by wide aureoles and proud nipples, the deep shadows cast by her D-cups were enough to shroud a man's cock in darkened bliss. She needed to let them breathe; there was nothing wrong with her boobs; no need to cover them. Tits were natural; tits like hers were healthy. Let the World see! And they were still growing; the Fae, that pregnant elf in the ladies' room had done something to her, awakened her to the truth. She felt ecstatic tingles as her teats adjusted, expanding themselves to match her new libido.
Look at Daniel; a good-enough man, completely speechless, from the fire in her now-green eyes, smoldering with the passion of her Revelation. Look at him, eyes riveted on her womanly globes, swaying naked in the posh light of the chandelier. He did not understand yet; but she would show him the new truth; the ultimate truth: That the measure of a man was not money, a sense of humor, or emotional sympathy, the measure of a man was his sperm output. So simple, so liberating.
"Uh..V-Viviana...? asked Daniel in a quavering voice, as she looped her arm in his and prepared to strut in all her topless glory out of the dining room.
"Yes Daniel, I have decided to take control of our date." she replied in a flat, controlled voice.
"B-but..but...we're leaving? What about Dinner?" His hazel eyes were wide in surprise as she hauled him to his feet. Viviana paused.
"Hmmm yes, I nearly forgot dinner." with a pleasant smile, she picked up the delicate, crystal glass filled with sparkling champagne, and leisurely poured the drink all over the coppery skin of her naked breasts. "This is all the dinner you need, Dear Daniel." The Maitre'de was about to call...well, someone...but was relieved that the slutty latina quickly left after exposing herself.
She couldn't wait for him to drive her anywhere; she needed to test him, to measure his worthiness before he would be allowed to take her anywhere. She took the car keys from his pocket, pushed Daniel into the Lexus, and folded back the seats to give them room. She took Daniel's hands and brushed his palms across her, down the hollow of her clavicle and shoulder, brought his lips to her breasts, that he might slurp the remains of the champagne that moistened her nipples. His moans of feverish delight only confirmed her new certainty.
His short-trimmed, brown beard tickled her breasts as she took stock of him; hazel eyes beneath a full head of hair, parted in the center, tall, almost lanky physique. A bit hairy; it reminded her of a savage beast that Viviana hoped he would become. She was no longer interested in his bank-account, the silly concerns of human women! Human women? Wasn't she human? What an odd thought.
"Here...is the deal....Daniel dear..." she breathed huskily, as the remnants of her cocktail dress seemed to evaporate, whilst straddling his hips, already tenting with the expression of his masculine potential. "If you wish to continue this date, or if you wish to ever go out with me again; you must be tested." His pants were gone now; his 7-inches of meat fully extended; a good sign!
"My family has always believed that a man should provide for his woman; and you must do the same. You Daniel, will provide me with sperm, all your sperm. You must cum three times; that is my new rule. If your sperm is enough, you will earn a second date."
It was best not to question such things. Daniel was afraid that to analyze, consider this new weirdness, for fear that it would end. Sometimes a man got lucky like this. Strange though, he was sure that Viviana never had eyes of such a brilliant green.
**********
It was time; her time. It was her chance to shine again, to be beautiful, desirable....powerful again! Violet was already accustomed to her condition; she had finished mourning what she could not change, and she was used to the stares. Before college, in those first months after her 'accident' Violet would never have worn the hot-pink bikini that now barely concealed her athletic figure. She, like so many others, would have been terminally embarrassed. But her shame never accomplished anything; her embarrassment could not give her hope.
So Violet had learned to take it in stride at first, ignoring the comments, the whispers, the slack-jawed stares. Soon, she became numb to the attention. I mean really, how could she expect people not to stare at magically-enlarged breasts only a little smaller than standard beach balls? There was no helping it; the clinical magicians didn't want to risk more magic to reduce her prodigious bosom, fearing complications from any attempt to reverse her 'Thaumaturgical Mammary Hypertrophy', the magical breast growth which was becoming all too tragically common these days.
She liked to roller-blade along beaches like this, to gather her thoughts and relax, as the sun and wind caressed her bronzed physique. She was something or somewhere around a Double K-cup, and just learning to walk again with her condition was almost as bad as paraplegic rehabilitation. But she was no longer constrained, no longer confined. Violet and others that suffered from accidental magical breast growth would not be denied. Too long, she and others like her hid themselves away, fearing any human contact in their abject shame. But no longer; those days were over. Women of preposterous endowments; as the media called them, were emerging from their basements, from the dark places they had been hiding. They would not spend the rest of their lives weeping with embarrassment, they would stand, and be counted. They would return to public life, and to hell with anyone that didn't like it! (Or those that liked them too much)
The preposterous udders flowed and swayed across the lithe human's chest; she had to walk with a sort of rhythm; to prevent the bosomy inertia of her tits from menacing passersby. But it was easy now, each day she was becoming more comfortable, more accepting of what she had brought upon herself with a dubious 'Super-Boob' potion, and what medical science could not correct. She could talk to people, and accept their stares without emotion, the lurid howls from the sickos that thought she was a walking wet dream no longer angered her.
Women like her, women like Violet had found ways to empower themselves; and that was why she was here. As surely as a 20th century bra would have been destroyed trying to contain the awesome expanse of her magic-powered mammaries, so too were women of preposterous proportions breaking the straps of shame, and embarrassment. She unfolded the newspaper clipping again, and smiled to herself. It had happened to her last year; when Violet woke-up one day and realized that she no longer wished for the accident to be reversed. She didn't really want to go back to her old, flatter self. She had accepted herself, and then allowed herself to take pride again.
4TH ANNUAL
INTERNATIONAL BODY FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF BREAST ENTHUSIASM
BOSOM BUILDING COMPETITION
COLLEGIATE CIRCUIT.
PANAMA CITY, FL.
The audacity had stunned the world; these women were now flaunting their magical deformities; declaring themselves not freaks, but rather people of 'fully-realized womanhood'. And their numbers were growing; any woman experimenting with cosmetic magic took the risk. They had researched their condition, their new breasts, and the misbegotten magic that endowed them; and while there was no reliable cure for 'T.M.H.', women had found remarkable means of controlling their bosoms; gaining mastery over them in a way not believed possible. And Violet had practiced ways to control her 'girls' and increase her mobility all the time.
Soon, Bosom-Building Competitions were broadcast on major television networks during primetime, amid much furor. And the World knew that this new 'sport' had achieved acceptance when some women, mediocre fitness models, decided to try their 'hand' in this new arena; there were women that deliberately over-dosed on fertility potions, knowing full-well the disaster that would result. 'The community' had found many ways to adjust their conditions, and Violet now had the means to alter the full size of her preponderous boobs, within some limits, and at last, she was getting her lactation under control! She only needed to milk herself an hour a day! And she felt she was ready; ready to become a 'fully-realized' woman. She had trained, she had prepared, she had done her homework. Violet's chest swelled yet more with pride, and accidentally bumped into a pixie on the sidewalk carrying a bag of groceries.
The Fae tumbled ingloriously into the sand, hotdogs, thick cigars, carrots, and cucumbers scattered. She blew a strand of purple hair out of her smooth, porcelain face. Wispy, translucent antennae unfurled nervously above her hairline.
"Oh my...I'm so sorry; Sometimes it's like they've got a mind of their own." quipped Violet, pointing to her culprit breasts, quivering upon her torso like frightened midgets. "Let me help you up..."
"I'm fine," replied the Pixie testily, fluttering the gossamer, diaphanous wings that sprouted from between her shoulder blades, which levitated her back onto her feet, the wispy wings far too small to support her in flight without some form of magic. "So what are you supposed to be, a bosom builder?" The purple-haired pixie spoke with a snide, superior tone.
"Yup; I'm a contender in the collegiates."
"Oh really?" The pixie seemed to take offense at this; maybe she was just upset over being boob-whacked. But then, Violet saw them. The fae girl, wearing a purple bikini no more substantial than Violet's seemed to puff out her chest, her grapefruit boobs gleaming in the sun; skin the color of polished marble. Wait...no, her breasts were rapidly filling out; approaching b...bowling ball size! The purple pixie stood unmoved, without the slightest hint of strain as her top-heavy anatomy continued far past the boundaries of normal human femininity. No hunching, no muscle spasms as inflating titflesh surged ever forward, her technique was flawless!
When a girl became the victim of runaway fertility magic, her breasts tended to leap and jerk in spasms, quivering as her womanly bounty multiplied, rending and shredding whatever unfortunate clothes were in their path. But not this time; the fairy female has achieved a perfect, seamless expansion technique as smooth as the sunrise. The swelling mounds, growing from melon-size, to bowling balls, onward to a bosomy volume as large as most safety helmets expanded in perfect proportion. It was as if Violet's eyes simply grew ever closer to the enchanted fairy breasts, the hint of a golden aureole creeping out from under her bikini top. Who was she? How did...
Oh wait...that face...those tits....Violet recognized this pixie! She was also a contender!
"Heeyyyy....I know you....Titaniaera, 1st place in the Collegiates 2 years ago...." Violet's eyes widened in recognition.
"*I* am Titaniaera, Crystal Dancer of the Rainbow Towers of 3rd Aglarond!" She seemed to savor her full, Fairy title. Violet shrugged. The convoluted politics of the Realm of Fairy were irrelevant; The Fae were forced to abandon their homes for Earth because of the waning magic. They would have to get used to the *real* world. Still, her title sounded important; whatever it meant, but here she was; having to buy her own groceries like anyone else. Heh.
"My friends call me Titty," continued the pixie, with a jiggle of her enchanted bosoms. "*You* can call me Titaniera." Her purple eyebrows arched with an imperious air, as she stepped forward; smoothly expanding teats soon equaling the human's own. So that's how it was eh? Hmm...the rumors were true then.
The Pixie known in the Breast Enthusiast community as Titty was infamous for the lingering cloud of ethics violations, arrogance, and outrageous sexual exploits. This was a more recent development; many Fae had become fascinated by the achievements of the Bosom Builders, and began bending their own magical prowess to compete with human women. In the Collegiate circuit, perhaps no one was more controversial than Titty. She was a pixie from San Francisco, a town where the Fae had flourished as never before; and while she had been cleared of the ethics violations, there was still suspicions.
She would be a formidable opponent; pixies were experts at size-altering magic, that was why she now had the full stature of a human adult, a very, very healthy adult human. Apparently, she had invested much of that magic in her breasts. Titty stood eye to eye with the tall, tanned, athletic human, (Violet had to be buffed to walk with 30-pound tits!) Purple eyes glared into each other, as the pixie's tits completed their inflation to equal the human's; bosoms pressing, cajoling against each other in a jiggly battle for mammalian supremacy.
"We'll see who the contender is, human..."
**********
Lies. So many lies. Professor Lily was walking....no...not here, here she was on vacation, Spring Break. She was free from the strictures and constraints of a university professor. Here she would be herself, here she would be the Fae that she truly was. Here she was just Lily. The warm sand caressed her bare toes as she luxuriated in her freedom. Despite all the pretenses of her office at Madison University, she was in essence the same sort of slut as the unicorn Cori, or her Pixie friend Lisa.
Life on Earth had been good to the forest nymph; with every sex-act, every time one of her human students impregnated her with a shot of hot semen within the willing folds of her flowery cunt, her connection to the magical life-blood of the planet increased; and Lily
was caught in a vicious circle; the more sex she had, the more fertile she became. Every birth only served to increase her magical fecundity. And now, as happened to many Fae, she had started to youthen dramatically over several months. Not uncommon, but it became something of a dilemma for the serious, career-minded fairy.
Important humans in the modern world just couldn't bring themselves to respect a creature with a voice like a canary singing soprano, and the fresh face of a girl just out of high-school. (Not to mention porn-star boobs) While human women tried creams and salves to appear younger, many fae that desired respect created a market for a line of products that made them appear older. Many professional Fae insisted such deception was essential to be considered for a job more lofty than prostitution or pornography.
But here, at last....on the sandy beaches of Florida, Lily the Forest Nymph had cast off all such illusions. Caustic creams and tiny adhesive strips to make her appear to be a woman over 30 had been washed away; the nubile nymph was a fresh-faced as a Freshman, blending in perfectly with the hedonistic humans, and the Fae that were....well, just being Fae. Of course, no human professor from her College would consider joining students on their Spring Break, but that was just the sort of attitude that Lily wished to escape from.
She intended to explore her true nature, and her new goddess-powers. It was a chance to reconnect with her nymph nature. Even before arriving, The Drive had grown stronger. As a creature infused with the essence of nature's fertility, Lily had a primal urge to increase life for its own sake. Most humans eventually had a desire to have children, but for the Nymphs, it was far greater. She felt a yearning to not only reproduce, but to cause others to breed as well. She could not explain to a human the ecstasy that came when creatures under her influence began to produce new life, except that it was an addictive feeling, and more a selfish pleasure than anything else.
That was why Lily had slipped into the Beach Party behind the Tropical-Motif restaurant. She had seen a chuckling, cocky young man spiking the fruit punch with some sort of potent alcohol; a prank of some sort? She decided to improve upon his meddling. When no one was watching, the Professor took the opportunity to pull the center of her white bikini, exposing a rosy nipple just long enough to lace the punch with the milk from her own EE-cup, honeydew-melon breasts. Lily needed to know, she needed to see what her new powers could achieve. That was how the orgy started.
It's a funny thing about magic. Sometimes, you know full well that a spell is compelling you, but that won't help you resist it. Yes, the Co-eds knew that the explosion of primal lust that engulfed them must have been from a spell, but your desire to obey the magic's control was no less that the desire to obey your own will. Her goddess-powers enabled her to tweak the libidos of the mixed crowd of humans, that combined with her breast milk seemed to corrupt their very souls; minds snapped beneath the full fury of the rutting frenzy.
Amazing! Now that she had achieved...what was that word? Apotheosis? Whatever the leprechaun had told her, the Orgies that Lily could cause had become thoughtlessly easy. Not only where the handsome, well-muscled students thrusting and grinding into each others genitalia like the world was coming to an end, but the magic adjusted their anatomies so that the sexcapades could continue long beyond the limits of human endurance.
There came a collective groan from six frat-brothers as they disengaged from the willing, welcome pussies that had enveloped their rigid members in surprise. The blond, lithely muscled boys found their cocks growing with each coupling; for every impregnation, they became only more potent. And more lustful...gripping cocks that ruled them like the rudder of a ship, they began steering themselves into the moist depths of female lips more than eager to accept their throbbing, fleshy torpedoes.
A brunette and a redhead girl, freshmen most likely, writhed in forbidden ecstasy upon the sands, bikinis quickly shed. They grunted with shock and surprise as they felt their own hips widening in leaps and spurts. Asses ballooned, and pelvises expanded with throaty grunts as a mighty spell prepared them not just for breeding, but for the bearing of truly vast litters of children. Wide, child-bearing hips would serve them well in their new life as breeding sluts.
The redhead knew that she always wanted to go to college, become a lawyer, put-off even the question of kids until after 30; but that was before. Twisting, quivering, as her brain was sautéed in a stew of sexual hormones, she knew that her life had been changed forever. Yes, this was clearly magic, but that didn't matter to her; her knew destiny was not litigation, but prostration, as she spread her legs for the many, many men that would seed her womb. It was with happiness that she looked towards her new life, on her back like the breeding whore she was.
The brunette's name was Stacy, and she tore away the bikini bottom, raising her ass in the air with a timeless invitation for bestial rutting. The sound that emanated from her throat was half-grunt, half-scream as she thumped her palm against the sand; announcing her availability to...well....everyone. She was growing impatient....where there no cocks ready to knock her up with the first of her many young? Even now, she felt her hips and ass continue to widen and swell slightly, and she exulted in her transformation into an ideal brood-mare. All she needed was a hard cock to....Ahhh....
*SCLOONK*
Her pussy, moistened by the erotic stimulation of her transformation accepted the entire 8-inch shaft with a single thrust! A howl of inarticulate delight tore itself from her throat as the link was made. The Brunette felt connected to all time, to all life by the rod that penetrated her. Her mate grasped her thighs for better purchase as he ground himself up to the hilt within the frothing sea of female bliss splayed before him. Muscles jerking, she pushed back against him. Let him never think that her lust was any less! She stretched herself around his rod, hoping that through her willingness, she could encourage him to screw with yet greater intensity.
Should Stacy look? Should she turn around and see the face of her bare-back rider? She debated with herself whether it was necessary to look upon the face of the man about to seed her womb with his potent essence. It didn't seem important; there was no one at this party that she would reject, they were all fine specimens. Her Mate was athletic at least; bunches of corded muscles pressed against her thigh as he thrust yet again, and he was a bit hairy. His flesh...warm...warmer than usual...his penis seemed to dance and quiver within her more often than other men. Yet he was suitable. He had what she needed, and there was no man here she would reject, for the fires burning in her blood told her that he was the first of many.
**********
She would have to forego the luxury. For most mermaids, one of the most sublime pleasures of the beach was sunning herself; allowing your scales to soak up the sunlight, feeling the lingering warmth as they trapped the heat enveloping her flesh like a soothing glove. And indeed, Mariana was not the only Mermaid here today, with that intent.
But there was a problem; the silver mermaid had discovered long ago that while the notion of the Mermaid was wondrous and romantic certainly, but most people just...just didn't know what to do with her fish-body, when a human male sought a woman to screw around with, far too often he would choose someone with a familiar set of legs. The busty sea-fae couldn't allow the humans to consider her a less available sex partner on account of her tail. So, she allowed only a few, brief minutes before converting tail to legs; soft, toned, perfect legs. And with those legs came a ripe, wet pussy.
But it was not enough to lay there, passively upon her beach blanket, waiting to be flirted with. She ran her hands the full length of her figure, pretending to apply yet more sun block, arching her back and releasing sensuous moans that were only slight exaggerations of her true state. And...yes! She got one! There was her target...there was her man...Naturally, her moist womanhood was bare to the world, both in defiance of the human laws against indecent exposure, and because one simply cannot fit a bikini over a fish tail.
He was a broad-shouldered stud. Black hair, slicked back and a rugged goatee that suggested a tone of rebellion mirrored in his passionate, dark eyes. Marina allowed herself a brief smile, as she began to knead her own breast flesh, her knees flaring in and out, flagrantly displaying the most lurid charms of womanhood. Her pussy came first; but she knew, she felt that her perfect lower lips were as alluring and healthy as that of any human's. But what about her legs?
She stretched them again, her toned legs conjured by magic needed to be perfect; it was her fear, as well as that of all mermaids, that the only males available, human males would not be frightened away from lusting after her due to her unique anatomy. It all came down to the humans. Fae bloodlines were weak, the magic was fading, male Fae were of no use to her. Only through the gift of human sperm would the mermaid race survive. From the dainty tips of her feet, through the length of calves and thighs, smooth as mother-of-pearl, and similar in color, down to her thighs and hips. Which seemed to grow larger with every pregnancy. Yes, her magic had succeeded; the imitation was perfect. No healthy human male could gaze upon her lower body and escape an onslaught of erotic thoughts.
Mr. Broad-shoulders allowed himself a broader smile, a shiver passing through him, despite the heat when he beheld the audacious exhibitionism of the indecent fae-girl before him. Marina had baited the hook; the Fish was in sight, now she had to reel him in. Her tits would seal the deal. That was the problem; the complication. There were some men on Earth that did not believe a woman should have breasts larger than her own head. But she would take a gamble; she would assume that this human would be enticed by heavy, heaving mounds of healthy boob. How big? The only way to be sure was with a slow growth.
Her breasts, augmented by long months of Bosom Building training were already perkier, and even more resistant to gravity than most Fae, her melons protruded proudly, nipples angling forward, arrow-straight towards her intended mate. Her bosom was symmetrical; equal amounts of buoyant tit-flesh quivered both below and above the circle of her aureoles as they began to increase in size from that of mere grape-fruits, (sort of a resting, default size) onward through several fertile bouts of fecund expansion.
It was only when her tits were nearing cantaloupes size that she finally noticed Broad-shoulder's prominent erection protruding from trunks making a valiant effort to conceal his mighty meat. Bikini....straining the fabric that was intended for Fae females with unearthly breast-sizes, yet still the white top had definite limits. She could hear his ragged breathing, as pupils dilated. Yes...it was working! She had guessed correctly; this one was indeed a tit-man. She moaned luridly, caressing her bosom with passion that was no longer forced. She had to remind herself; not just any man would work. He had to be a male with the right lustful aggression; the sort that would take her, claim her with or without her permission. The mermaid race needed people like that, and hopefully it would be her womb that would give birth to the future.
With each cup-size, the human drew closer, and she knew he was committed. As her tits enlarged from cantaloupes to soccer-balls, she resolved not to rip-off her bikini top; she would allow the surge of her own udders to rupture the tortured fabric on their own. Let the human see the full grandeur of her breasts; let him see pure boob tear asunder the aggravating constraints of civilization in a jiggling climax of voluptuous freedom. Yes...soon...the mermaid's breathing was labored, sweat caused her silvery hair to cling to her brow, as the thin straps began to give way. **CRICCK**
**ERIP**
The Pop was inevitable, yet the throaty cry from the Fae's own throat occurred simultaneously. That's when things started to happen. The human, his hand reaching, groping for the female flesh on blatant display...so close...3 feet....1 foot...and Marina could smell the human's cologne when -WHHHUUUMPH!!
What! Another human! A second man, taller, lankier, and older had tackled Mr. Broadshoulders! The two scrambled in the sand. The newcomer was poorly dressed for the beach; he was loping around with dress pants around his ankles, boxing shorts barely concealing an awesome erection, and a furious gleam in his vividly green eyes, glaring out madly within a brown-bearded face, with hair parted in the center.
"N-NEED...P-PUSSY....." snarled the bearded human.
"HEY ASS-WIPE GET YOUR OWN! I SAW HER FIRST!!" and with that the brawling began.
Marina's pussy melted. A hot tide of juice lubricated her splayed cunt as her heart skipped a beat. Two Men! Two human males fighting over her! Two virile humans struggling with each other for the right to seed her fertile womb. Her huffing voice turned to a snarling gurgle, as the breeding urge tingled from her crotch to every nerve along her back. The strongest male would claim her, thrust himself within her, and blast her inner sanctum with hot, life-giving seed. She spread her legs wide, her moist twat releasing a burst of her own Brine-scented mating musk, so that the winner of the struggle would have no doubt of the reward that awaited him.
She never meant for it to be like this. The silver-haired mermaid had no idea she would become such a wanton hussy before she came to Earth. She once thought her life would be not much different from that of many human females; but something happened to her the first time she had sex with a man. Her sexuality awakened like an inferno, she became more intensely, lustfully female the longer she remained on Earth. Her biological clock had sounded an alarm, an alarm that she could not shut off, in her cunt. How long would she be like this? How long would her ravenous libido drive her to breed and birth the offspring of the humans? She hoped it never ended; the passion of her desire....how she loved her state of everlasting, sexual heat!
But still....something about that second human...his eyes; that eerie shade of green, almost...unnatural? Well, from the look of his raging cock, his cum was as good as any. Her musings interrupted by another tide of seething lust.
**********
"P-please...I need you!" said the Fae. Jorge felt a twinge of desire the moment he laid eyes upon the fairy woman. She had collapsed to the side of his life-guard station, clutching her ankle. She was a tall one, over 6 feet and wet with the salty ocean. The water plastered her brilliant blue-hair to her pale brow, as her eyes widened like cerulean pools of liquid passion, that passion being a deep, forlorned yearning. Was it from some injury, or something deeper.
Jorge flexed his ample muscles, unable to resist the chance to impress her with a brief show of his fitness. As he climbed down to her, he brushed back his raven-black hair, his squared-jaw firming with gallant resolve.
"Are you hurt? Your ankle?" he asked, concerned. Corded muscles tensing beneath his bronzed skin, as he prepared to assist the Fae to her feet.
"Y-yes...I just...I need to get back to my car...could you...could you..c- oh, I'm...it's embarrassing..." Her eyes of crystalline blue lowered in shame. Moist droplets of wetness flowed in rivulets down her radiant skin.
"It's alright; I'm here to help." reassured Jorge.
"I just need someone to carry me b-back to my car...so I can get my cell-phone.." Her words were almost questioning; as if she only half believed them herself. She raised her glistening arms to him. Jorge shrugged. If this gorgeous hottie wanted him to carry her wet, bikini-clad, busty body around the beach well....he was here to serve. But he did take a quick glance to the water to make sure that no one was drowning.
Jorge hoped that his arousal wasn't too obvious; the girl had the body of a goddess! Statuesque, sculpted legs of chiseled perfection. Wide hips for easy purchase during sex or birthing. Breasts seemed to leap and jiggle with a life of their own; similar in size to the EE-cups of a 20th-century stripper, yet they seemed to swell and flex, as though they might change and inflate at any time. Her elegant, upswept face had a vague, rainbow shadow around her eyes; forlorned eyes. The Fae proceeded to wrap her arms and legs around his muscled back as the human hoisted her.
"Hmm? Did you say something?" Jorge thought he heard the fae girl whisper something as she clung to him.
"N-no..nothing." she said quickly. The muscled human merely shrugged and enjoyed the feel of her warm, moist flesh, barely clad against his own muscled firmness.
"So...uh...how do you like Florida?" he asked, decided that a bit of conversation would only be polite.
"Oh...uhm...yes...warm, wet...yes...it's uhm...yes." She seemed reluctant to talk for some reason, content merely to clutch him, occasionally rubbing his body as he carried her.
"Here, um...let me dry you off." he offered, good thing he brought his towel. She giggled as he secured the lovely fae in the crux of his left arm, with his right he proceeded to towel off her firm belly, and down to the sweep of her thighs...her skin reflecting rainbow highlights of otherworldly beauty. And he dried...and toweled. Finally he took a risk and moved the towel near her chest and....
Now that was odd; His towel was almost saturated, dripping with water, and yet the sleek legs, belly and rump that he had dried seemed just as wet as before. Flowery-scented moisture seemed to pour off the girl's nubile body. Jorge frowned, but kept trying.
"mrussliktyie..." came an eerie murmur from the Fae girl, as she positioned her head over his shoulder. He felt a delicate finger tracing a line along the small of his back.
"What was that?"
"Uhhm...I..I just meant what...firm muscles you have!" twittered the Fae nervously. Jorge was about to...HEY!..WHAT THE...his pants...they...
The buffed life-guard almost dumped the Fae into the sand as the sensation built up. That was when he noticed the sparkles in the air; tiny points of flickering light. Magic! The Fae bitch had cast a spell on him!
"Hey! Crazy chica! What was that for! Here I am helping you out after you asked me!"
"Please...do not be mad!" pleaded the watery fairy as Jorge's cock began to twist, and leap within his pants.
"You cast some weird, slutty spell on me! What for! Why...why-y..y.." His penis grew yet larger, not as though it was erect, it was increasing in mass! Within his pants, his rigid rod stretched and grew, desire growing as large as his newly-empowered manhood!
"I..I *had* to do it! I apologize! You see; My name is Shelly, I am a water nymph. That's why you can't dry me off with a towel, you could not dry me off with a blow-torch in the Sahara, I am wet because I am a water nymph, not because I was in the ocean."
"B-but..." he was bewildered as his thrusting rod reached over 10 inches.
"I...they...we need you! I chose you and...well, a man of your strength is required! The spell wouldn't work unless I found a man of great strength! We need you badly, you'll understand in a moment." The nymph laid back onto the sandy beach, and with a snap removed her blue string bikini, revealing the lips of the wettest pussy the Life-guard had ever seen.
"I...I know it is not true to the ideals of human romance, but please; I have to beg you to have sex with me, right now! You know not how important it is that I get your cock inside me!" Her eyes were pleading, her breasts heaving, and her thighs were spread wide to receive his manhood.
"In...In public?" grunted Jorge, as he grasped a mighty penis already a foot in length, his trunks would be torn asunder in a moment more. Shelly only implored him with forlorn eyes, jiggling tits, and dripping pussy.
"Your penis will only grow larger! By Neptune you *must* get it inside me! I implore you!"
"BIIIIIIIITCH!!"he shouted as he tackled her, his rod shooting into her depths, his ass flexed and throbbed as he ground his crotch against her moist sex. Fires of lust overwhelming him, he tore at her bikini top, reveling in the glory of her tits. Even through the haze of his ecstasy, Jorge knew this was wrong; his cock was well over a foot in length, he felt it....but...the slutty nymph took it all; all of his throbbing organ.
And he kept growing; far past the dimensions of humanity or normal livestock, yet it was no trouble to her. Shellie wrapped herself around his meat with no more trouble than a human women taking 8 inches of cock inside herself. Yet...she wasn't that big; where was it all going? He felt his cock continuing to grow; there was no way this...or any girl could take a man as big as Jorge was becoming, yet she did. With no trouble. Though her face was contorted in a rictus of passion, that passion seemed to wholly pleasure.
"Yes...nearing...the Veil..." she murmured, as the human suckled her golden aureoles and nipples. He was rewarded with spurts of flowery-sweet breast milk jetting onto his tongue. It seemed....*NAAAUNG* with every....inch....*HNNUH* her teats....*GYEAAAHHH*! squirted again! Whatever was happening, Jorge had never seen any women except...well...except a Fae enjoy sex this much. The water nymph seemed to be loosing control; her breasts ballooning inches...cup-sizes, growing to keep pace with his cock...filling with milk, expressing it with each thrust in ivory rivulets amidst throaty moans.
Jorge wasn't sure how big he was; but when Shellie's breasts grew to be slightly larger than motorcycle helmets, he felt the change.
**********
The Land of Faerie was a magical realm, yet with magic came the possibility of pain with pleasure equally, or so Rayne had discovered. She was not sure what made her come to the beach that day; a vague premonition of hope perhaps. The nymph had a strange impression that something important was going to happen today. Hmm...she wondered if she should wear clothes?
Among the naiads of the Siren Isles, issues of that sort took on critical importance. Anything that might alter their plight was vital, however slim the hope. As usual, Rayne was sorry; she was sorry that her lusts, and the sexual lusts of her sister Sirens had caused the disasters of the past. Human legends would record the Sirens as vicious predators, using man's desires against him. It was so unfair! she sniffed. But nonetheless, the High Council of the United Fairy Kingdoms had made their decree; the water nymphs had become too dangerous; their lusts had caused so much destruction and chaos, that they were to be banished forever.
The Siren Isles were sealed away by potent magic; lost to the rest of Fairy, lost to the Universe. Rayne and her sisters were condemned to spend untold eons without the one thing they craved most. Human cocks. The small nymph was also sorry that their lusts had led them into a sort of madness over the centuries. Most Sirens found that they could not accept the prospect of an eternity without sex, without men. So they denied their situation. They convinced themselves that while they might be sealed away, it would be possible to invoke men to come to them, if only they could become sexy enough. They would not accept that the Ban was permanent, and no Siren caught within it could breach it from the inside.
Yet still, it seemed cruel to deny hope to her sisters, (as if they would listen to her anyway) and the sirens had spent their eons divided according to a variety of theories about what practices might compel men to arrive on their islands.
"Men....crave women with wide....firm hips...for breeding!" snarled an especially busty siren, the current leader of the Voluptuaries
"NOOO!" shrieked a wispier, thinner nymph facing off with her opponent, apparently about to wrestle. "Women...should be slender...and fair...Men want delicate women of true beauty!" She replied, the second nymph the current leader of the Waif society.
"Liar!" shouted the Voluptuary. "With wide hips....and heavy breasts....a man will know that you are ripe for breeding, ripe to bear his young! He will lust for you! And men will come!! They shall come at last to the Siren Isles!!" with that there was a throaty cry of hopeful triumph from the Voluptuary supporters.
Rayne had lost all hope, long ago, but she knew that her sisters had been revitalized by the idea that they might seduce men from beyond the Stars, lure them to come to the Siren Isles, and finally fill the long-vacant cunts here with the cocks and cum more precious than life itself. Any practice, and idea that might bring men to the Islands was worth fighting for.
There were rumors, whispered rumors that some of the other islands had received men in recent years, but if so they weren't sharing, and Rayne no longer believed such tales.
"Only when *ALL* sirens are slender creatures of graceful beauty will Men come, Men to fill us with their Sacred Rods, Men to love us, Men that will impregnate us!" and with that cry, all the Sirens, (including Rayne) quivered with furtive yearning.
But while Rayne was among the smallest, and the weakest of the nymphs, she believed herself to be among the most sensible, and she suspected that their might be different sorts of men that like different sorts of women; she herself had flirted with all the Parties upon the Isles. She shrugged; let them wrestle each other. As the heaving bodies of the water nymphs collided in the sand , amidst the cheers of their supporters, it took only seconds for the conflict to dissolve into mutual masturbation; each Siren thrusting, grinding herself against the flesh of her opponent, struggling for orgasm.
And Rayne wandered her island, searching for...she knew not what...she encountered others, more ways to pass the eons, more ways to bring the hope of men, and sex back to the islands. The palm trees on the hill where filled with naiads all engaged in a gigantic strip-tease. Some of her kind believing that constant nudity causes men to grow bored over time, and that Sirens must garb themselves, that men might have the pleasure of watching them strip, so that men might come, and impregnate them at long last. These nymphs writhed and slithered up and down the tree-trunks, gradually shedding wispy veils of clothing while groaning with lust.
There were those that occupied themselves completely with song; there on the hills atop the island naked nymphs raised up glistening arms as they sang songs of haunting beauty to the starry heavens, so that men might come, and impregnate them at long last. And then, there were some that tried to distract themselves, ceasing to believe that men would ever arrive. On the south ridge several of the more creative sirens busied themselves with more constructive labors; the Craftsluts spend eons trying to construct the most realistic dildos possible. With only sand, leaves, and dirt to work with, their efforts seemed doomed. But as Rayne watched approvingly, she beheld that they had indeed made cunning progress over the eons. Centuries of labor had culminated in lovingly-crafted sex-toys in nearly the exact image of an penis, of impressive elasticity and firmness, with balls attached. They still could not quite perfect the color, but through the years, some of them had been able to create dildoes that truly spurted white cream so close to real sperm....so close...
It was good, Rayne thought, that they were using their hands, that they were working, rather than wallowing in despair. Normally, Rayne would have stolen an unattended sex-toy, run back to her Cove that she might pleasure herself, but not now. Now she felt....an urge to...she didn't know! She explored her island, visiting her sisters as they writhed in anguish from the seething hormones of frustrated womanhood.
And then, there were The Lost. Near the center of the island, by the Waterfall, where those sirens that had abandoned all hope of men, some in their delirium claimed that men did not exist, mere inventions of frustrated fae libidos. Most did not think on such matters; The Lost writhed over each other in a cunnilingual orgy; so that they might never have to think at all. Over the millennia, they had become quite skilled. Their tongues- YAAAH!
Rayne was tackled by a crazed sister with the look of a wounded lioness as her naked legs were spread. The Lost One buried an agile tongue deeply into her pussy with razor-sharp precision, bombarding her womanhood with such skillful caresses that she was orgasming almost before she hit the ground. Snarling with her madness, the crazed siren feasted on Rayne's girl-cum, her intimate knowledge of a pussy and its weaknesses honed by millennia of fevered practice. Rayne only allowed herself a dozen such orgasms before disengaging. Her partner was soon tackled in turn by more willing participants. Perhaps The Lost had the right idea; is this what all sirens should do? Spend all eternity licking each other to orgasm?
She almost stumbled across such a pair; one nymph squatting upon the face of another, lurid slurping as the lower fae lavished the pussy of the one atop as her hands roved over her partner's belly, tits, and ass. The nymph on top glared at Rayne, and made a provocative, 'come-hither' gesture with her own flexible tongue. For reasons she could not explain, her soul rebelled against the idea; there *had* to be something she could do! Something...somehow....so that men might come, and impregnate them at long last.
Hah! Who was she kidding! Rayne was a small, petite nymph; often bullied. If a man could see her, would he even want her? She was short, her breasts no larger than overripe coconuts, while the other, dominant nymphs were tall as any man, svelte-figured with great, glorious boobs nearly the size of wild pumpkins, naked bodies dripping with slick, fairy sweat as they pined away with husband-hunger.
She felt it first; even though there was no reason that she should. Something strange, something alien had come to the island; she sensed first a presence that was never meant for this place, and her dainty feet propelled her running to the beach, evading the quivering tits, groans of passion, and female ejaculations surrounding her.
The bubbling, frothing in the water had to be a dream; Rayne had snapped. She had gone crazy like The Lost sirens trapped in their eternal lesbian orgy. The bubbling in the sea could not be real, she had to be dreaming; because she beheld her Salvation at long last, rising from the sea like a beacon of hope.
Either the petite nymph was truly insane, or it was truly a penis. She dropped to her knees, a cry of joyous disbelief torn from her pouty lips. It was larger than it should be, almost as tall as Rayne was. But the proud, fleshy shaft throbbed with a life of its own, and she saw the flaring crown, perfect for burying itself in the willing pussy of a fertile female. Her willing pussy. She seemed to watch herself; disembodied, for the experience was too joyous to be real, as she leapt upon that wondrous, life-giving, long-sought Sacred Rod, her hope and her future slipped between her thighs, into a cunt that was all too willing to accept it.
**********
He understood now. Jorge could at last could feel the urgency. How many...how many pussies...he...he was screwing two women at once! With one cock! Heedless of the world, heedless of the public spectacle he was creating, the mating couple continued their indecent rut. As the Life-guard buried his cock ever deeper within the enchanted pussy engulfing him in velvety lust, he could feel his penis, breaking free....penetrating into some strange, new world beyond, though he remained buried to the hilt within the dripping crotch of the sweaty, blue-haired fairy slut that had ensorceled him.
His lucky cock could then feel two pussies, two sets of lower lips enveloping the totality of his manhood. When one cunt released, another squeezed. His body quivered, his brain struggling to comprehend the unnatural sensation. But he could feel her; he could sense something of the urgency, the terrible yearning that had wracked that other woman, on the other end of his rod. He understood the need, and was far from angry. He took time out to tenderly kiss his fae captor's cheek before resuming his determined suckling of her milk-spurting teats.
Rayne could feel him; as she ground up and down upon the Sacred Rod, a magical link enabled her to sense some details about her long-awaited paramour. His name....Jorge....she was surprised a little; it seems that men were thinking creatures with their own thoughts, feelings, and desires. Who would have suspected? Her memories of the days before the Ban where so distant, it was as if she had never seen a man ever.
She hoped the Man understood what she offered; anytime he felt the need to extend his Sacred Rod across the boundaries between dimensions, he would find welcoming pussies here.
**SLUCK** **SCHLNK** **HYSRLP** **LSSIP**
She did not know if he understood, for Rayne was torn away from the magical link, as the other Sirens arrived screaming their lust. The largest, the strongest among them jockeyed for position, and Rayne, runt that she was could not resist the dominant females. With a slippery pop of female lubricant, she was unceremoniously pulled from her perch. But it didn't matter. She had hope now. Our there in the Universe, there were penises more than willing to reach and impregnate the Sirens. She lay there on the beach, caressing her blessed cunt, as her sisters swarmed over to savor the wonder-rod, in the hopes that it might bless them with its spurting gift.
She could not help but laugh, no longer regretting her imprisonment on Siren Isle, for their were some sisters that were free, and by their sorcery there was real hope that someday...somehow...(this was her most selfish dream) that Rayne might own a man of her very own! The thought made her orgasm yet again. Let the others bully her; she had gotten Four thrusts; Four glorious strokes upon the Sacred Rod, so perfectly suited to a wet pussy! Four strokes! And they could never take that away from her!
**********
Lily was undaunted. She was prepared to unleash the full force of her Goddess-powers. There were some spells theorized among the Fae, spells that no one dare cast. But Lily had become a living source of fertility magic in her own right; she should now be able to summon the power for the Infinite Beauty Dweomer. A spell of ancient legend, no one in recent memory had succeeded in summoning the energy needed. But Lily could; Lily knew she had the power. And once she succeeded, she would become the most erotic creature on the face of the Earth! There would be no defense against her seduction! With powers such as this at her disposal, she could start a baby-boom unequaled in this (or any other) nation's history! So much life she would create!
She would test her powers on the humans driving upon the main highway directly adjacent to the beach. In moments, she would discard the hated bikini, and reveal the splendor of her nude body; though the being known as Professor Lily was in truth centuries old, her flesh was every bit as perky and voluptuous as the best-endowed 20-year-old human female. She would ignore the darkness; she would ignore the strange, nagging sense of dread that had come upon her recently. For some reason, she was sensing....a...a hole in the sexual auras of the humans and fae in this city. A mysterious disruption in the natural order. Hmm...probably nothing to worry about; probably some human girl warding herself against seduction magic. She shouldn't worry. She would revel in this moment! Her moment! Why spend her time grading papers when she could become the sexiest woman in 3,000 years?
The Dark hole, the rift in the fabric of sexual energy did not bother her; it wasn't a problem, was it?