It was the tits that would label her as marked by magic; surely no human woman could grow pendulous melons so enormous; swaying before her trim torso so far that only when her arms were extended at full-length could she find her elbows. The sweeping orbs of mammary clearly torpedoed her days of playing soccer, as she'd done before college; for the wide expanse of wobbling teat jiggled across her slender frame with all the unbalanced enthusiasm of a crazed mosh-pit. She was still herself; she still had that crescent-shaped birthmark on her shoulder, same as always, but her ridiculous, feminine curves would change her life forever. Her center of gravity had dramatically shifted; she dared not estimate her bra-size, she could only sink her petite fingers again and again into the sensitive cushions of feminized flesh that was never less than six inches in length, even when she lay prone.
"Oww!" She grunted; it would take time to get accustomed to her new ass and hips; her pelvis now wide enough to completely hide her backpack if it were held behind her shapely rump. Her naked flesh scraped painfully against a corner wall. And yet, the greatest surprise was that there was only surprise; she had none of the revulsion, anger, rage that she should have experienced; only surprise at her new, comedically sexual anatomy. She was shocked at the suddeness; yet rapidly her mind was adapting; accepting, coping with this new, erotic existence. Yes...there was Brad's Hotel...
Brad....her buddy since High School; he came with her on Spring Break to Florida; he'd take care of her....her pussy...her tits...*UUUrrrrrmmmmm* She growned sensuously, as she anticipated what Brad would do to her soft, curvy, nubile, naked body! The lurid intent that boiled in her blood would have been unthinkable; impossible a day ago, but she had changed now; there was no avoiding it. Yes, she could have found some clothing; yet her urge to posture her nude, ripened sexuality before males had overwhelmed all sense of propriety. So she ran; naked into the street, into the darkening twilight; amazed at the brashness of her exhibitionism, but she knew it was her destiny to submit to the urges of the male animal.
Quickly; far sooner than she had hoped; yet longer than she had patience for, he was there - and she had presented him with her ripe nudity. Brad was not exceptionally handsome, or intelligent; yet he was sufficient. He had just started working out, yet the slight musculature of his arms was not yet enough to grant him stud-status; but she found his unshaven, blond stubble endearing. Her behavior was unthinkable! Impossibly irrational! Yet she could not stop: she could only submit to her new urges.
"Bradley...." she gurgled... thrusting forward her sweeping, rosy-tipped bosom.
"Wh-ha? D-do I know y-" his surprise was interrupted by her coral lips, red and soft, pressing into his mouth. His mind was the enemy. If Bradley's mind was allowed to complete a thought; he might object, or question this strange, improbable situation; he might worry. She would not allow it.
"Who...*mmph*" But Bradley's question would never be completed; she stifled any further queries with her tongue, thrust into Bradley's mouth as she wrapped her arms, legs, and bosom around his torso.
"I know....*mmph* it's not...romantic...*slurp* but...your penis...I n-need...your cock...your cum...in meee....nnnnn.." she answered his unspoken questions. "P-please...d-don't resist...don't fight.." In moments, his pants were down; his half-finished Budlight spilling onto the carpet, as any hope of resistance was defeated by naked thighs, and pillowy boobs.
While Brad's bobbing, throbbing penis was not spectacular, The auburn-haired, busty slut that had accosted him in his motel room did not think of men as being 'attractive' or 'unattractive'....all was different now; As the man's penis probed into her naked slit, she began to think of Manhood itself as a limited luxury; something to be cherised and indulged in wherever it occured. One did not sneer at a pile of diamonds because there were not enough; each diamond was a valuable thing. So it was with men, and their cocks. She realized that she would be a slut now, a hopeless, cock-worshipping whore, for as long as she lived. But there was no horror, no outrage at what had become of her; just a mild surprise that rapidly melted into acceptance even as Bradley's rutting penis melted with pleasure in the moistening depths of the slippery sanctum of her ripe womanhood.
The most shocking revelation was the joy; even if she had known what would happen to her; even had she known she would be transformed in this way; she wouldn't have done anything differently....
**********
It was highly irregular. Jackson found the little lost Fae girl wandering the streets close to the beachfront alone. Clearly, she was some sort of Fae, with her bright green hair, and eyes like emerald marbles. but she was young and he didn't recognize her exact species. Hmm...probably some sort of forest nymph. The authorities were no help; the new, vast, federal adoption agencies that had sprung up in recent years were overburdened beyond all hope.
The weary-eyed, over-worked bureaucrat frantically typing, shuffling, and barking orders from behind the desk took one glance, and simply appointed Jackson as the girl's temporary guardian; until the registration cleared and the transfer files were in order; or something like that. But the handsome twenty-something couldn't blame the flustered federal paper-pusher. The explosive fertility of the Fae; and of those humans that came in contact with the Fae, had created a logistical nightmare trying to keep track of, and care for the hordes of half-fae offspring.
In the waiting room, in a seat across from him, a giggling, pregnant elf with green hair began fondling her own, milk-gorged boobs, muttering something about 'getting ready for number fifteen', in that sing-song, accented lilt common to creatures from Faerie. While in anatomy; these creatures seemed closely related to mankind, Jackson was reminded once again that the silly, slutty being across from him was not at all human. Female Fae seemed to have an irrational, sexual craving that seemed even stronger than the normal, baseline horniness of a human male; the whole timeless balance between the sexes, between the pursuer and seducer; the Game of Love, had been turned on its head. When Fae female and Human male met, both were hoping to score, and both were willing to make the first move. Often at the same time. But apparently with good reason; since human DNA apparently added something vital to Fae survival that they had lost through millenia of inbreeding; and this elf, (well into her third trimester) had clearly been getting all the human DNA she could handle. But If the females were such irrepressible whores, what must the few Fae males be like? They were very rare, and Jackson didn't remember ever meeting one.
The next woman stumbling into the Federal Auxillary Adoption Overflow clinic number 12 was human, and seemed as if she would soon be the proud mother of a baby elephant, so great was her burgeoning womb. She waddled with barely restrained rage to the desk, blowing a strand of strawberry-blond hair from her eyes as she launched into a snarling diatribe fueled by the churning vitriol of more pregnancy hormones than any woman should have to bear. Amidst a barrage of colorful expletives, Jackson heard something about 'that bastard Leprechaun...' While the human unconsciously caressed her over-ripe dome of womanhood. Curiosity compelled Jackson to tilt his ear to listen as she berated the hapless bureaucrat. Explaining that, 'THIS wasn't one of my wishes,' but the secretary was undaunted, telling her to begin the paperwork process with form delta-b-2.
As if sensing their mother's distress, her womb trembled visibly from God-knows how many supernatural infants kicking within the human's fertile belly as she struggled down to a seat; muttering something like, 'Nothing at the End of the Rainbow but Maternity clothes!" Her next comments were ribald enough to make a sailor blush, as her ripe nipples began to leak through her dress; her body well prepared for the impending brood she would squeeze out.
While slightly humorous, Jackson knew that the issue was a troublesome one, magic easily foiled most birth control, and many doctors were afraid to use conventional abortions in cases of magic, due to complications, and the fact that many spells could not be altered until they played out successfully.
So here he was; the little girl (who said her name was 'Dydra') was assigned to his custody for the next two days; due to bureaucratic backlog and incompetence. Though obviously of Faerie origin, she seemed a docile, well-behaved child; though Jackson dared not ask where she'd gotten the over-sized, Man's button-down shirt she'd been wearing. Plus, she didn't seem to speak much English. Probably abandoned by a human woman magically impregnated with more children than she could handle.
Well, Jackson's apartment was big enough, and he hoped she wouldn't get into trouble as he went out for groceries. (and clothes) Strange though, the little girl seemed utterly enamoured with sunlight itself, almost regretting being taken indoors; and...and...must be his imagination...had she grown a few inches during the ride back to his place? Naw....
**********
She was her own mermaid; not subject to anyone's legendary, or mythological stereotype. That more than anything, Violet believed, her friend Marina was trying to prove. She had begun her routine swimming languidly in a clear tank she'd been able to arrange the construction of, and the first part of her act consisted of flowing, gliding, her glistening arms of pearlescent white beckonging towards the audience seductively, as if she was attempting to lure the onlookers into her tank. But that was simply how Fae acted during any performance; the slutty, otherwordly females loved theatrics, they loved bold exhibitionism that let them display their irresponsible licentiousness to the world. Fairy creatures on stage, as Marina was, would hold in their minds the desire to seduce the audience into joining them there for some horrible, public orgy. Far too often, they succeeded.
"oooo- Jamaica...
Bahama....
Come on, Pretty Mama..."
With the Pre-Conjunction 'Beach Boys' playing as her theme music, a surprisingly cozy atmosphere was created in the vast auditorium of the Bosom Builder's Competition. As Marina swam, she would rotate herself periodically, and with each twist, her breasts became incrementally larger. The buoyant, glistening globes of fantastic fertility had begun at a size scarcely larger than a pair of overripe apples, when the curtain had been drawn, and Marina had revealed herself to the audience. After each twist, Her magical mammaries had swelled at least two inches outwards, the floral-patterned bikini and matching sarong wrap-around covering her shapely hips; which stretched to match. She timed her breast-expansion perfectly, coinciding with those times she was not facing the audience.
"Key-Largo...
Montego...
Baaa-aaby why don't we go..."
As Violet watched off stage, she smirked as the bouncers had to drag off two, middle-aged men in the audience, utterly seduced by the sultry mermaid. She decided against any stupid puns about bobbing for apples, since by now the fairy-creature's bosom had far transcended most fruits. The boobs, shimmering in the distortion of the water, now had reached so impressive a size that they seemed independent of the mermaid's torso. Each massive teat swung lazily, straining the floral-pattern bikini to the limit, while flowing in a buoyant arc through the water, the inertia of the mermaid's swim/dance pulled and tugging her vast tits in myriad directions as she arched her back.
"We'll get there fast,
And then we'll take it slow..."
But Violet knew the Mermaid; she was well aware of the lusty fairie's love of Rap music, thus she was perhaps the only one whose heart did not skip a beat at Marina's next move. It was a spectacular leap, with several rapid circuits, she built momentum in the tank, and launched herself like a flying fish, activating her terrestrial spell at the same time. Quicker than a breast jiggle, her tail had transformed; she had also been practicing the innate magic that mermaids used to grow feminine legs for use on land. Not only that, her moist legs tensed instantly, as she hit the ground, with barely a twitch. In under a second, the bikini and sarong were gone, the bikini ruptured; revealing a yet-smaller bikini; with no more material than necessary to cover her coaster-sized aureoles. The sarong was ripped aside; revealing a pair of skimpy, golden hot-pants, with the word 'SLUT' in pink glitter right across her shapely ass. With a resounding downbeat, the music changed; in lyrics and beat...
"Mah milkshake brings all the Boyz to the yard
and they're like,
it's better than yours..."
Violet didn't recognize the Pre-conjuction song, but the throbbing beat was as much an endorsement of lust as Marina's grinding hips. The slippery, pearly-skinned mermaid had proven herself mistress of land and water; able to entice desire in either medium. More impressive was the fact that Marina could continue the dance even as her boobs achieved a size somewhere between that of a fully-stuffed backpack, and a standard beachball.
"Damn right,
it's better than yours...."
Meeting the mermaid's gaze briefly, Violet felt a twinge of trepidation. While pure breast control was integral to a Bosom-Building competition, the Dance, and the poised style of the contestant were just as influential. Violet, being human, didn't really want to seduce the entire audience. The Bosom magic tended to multiply the female libido, but through pure discipline, Violet had managed to retain her sanity. Most human females did not seek to entice every male in the audience to storm the stage. Marina's eyes widened as she swept a hungry glare at the audience; most girls sought to maintain a constantly pleasant, cheery expression. But the mermaid's composure faltered, as she began to gain perspective on the number of males watching; at least two thousand. Fairy instincts flared powerfully, and Violet suspected that her voluptuous friend was drooling as much as any of the men.
"I could teach you,
But I'd have ta charge...."
Fae seemed to have an exhibitionist gene, the attention of a group of fertile males threw them into a frivolous, sexual hysteria; a crowd as large as this easily enough to banish all thoughts except the primal yearning to posture her naked pussy for impregnation by any single male, or a group of men. Whenever possible, Fae preferred gang-bangs; since a wide selection of sperm virtually ensured fertilization.
Her grinding hips and bobbing torso had already achieved the desired effect from the hooting, hollering, male component of the audience. The challenge now was whether Marina could merely continue dancing, or whether her Fae instinct would cause her to abandon the performance, leaping into a crowd of males to spread her legs and release her mating musk; trusting in an aroused male to spurt his seed into her at the least. And craving a full-blown gang-bang at best. But unfortunetely, Bosom-Building was not intended to be triple X rated; so Fae had been disqualified for similar behaviour in past years. Violet feared that they might need Bouncers on stage; not only to keep horny men from groping the dancers, but to protect the audience from lusty Fae!
"Nah-nah..nah-na-na...
The Boyz are waiting..."
The song had a throbbing, techno-rhythm, and the mermaid's burgeoning bosoms rolled and leapt upon her chest in perfect time with the downbeat. She was the dance, her grinding hips, and snarls of lust bespoke of the deepest intensity. Would the judges take away points for style, since the mermaid had so obviously given herself to her own Fae lust, her passion for every male in the audience etched plainly upon her face? Or would they award points for discipline, if she managed to remain on the stage, and not do a stage-dive naked into the audience, breasts out of control while gagging the auditorium with mating musk? Pixies and Mermaids were known for their especially predatory sex-drives, compared with other Fae. The judges would surely take that into account.
That was the balance; Humans needed to muster up the necessary seductiveness to make an impression, while Fae had to grapple with their instincts and resist the urge to abandon all technique; simply offering herself to the men in the audience as a breeding bitch.
The Judges marked down their scores and opinions, obscured in the shadow with the spotlights focused on stage. While the shadowy breast-experts appeared to be subdued, middle-aged analysts; it was plain that many of the female judges had preposterous breasts, from the watermelon-sized lumps in their sweaters. They were all women that had grappled with the fertility magic of Fairy, and had retained their sanity, dignity, and humanity. They knew what Violet was going through; they'd felt the soul-numbing yearning to bare your breasts and spread your legs for any man with a hard cock, and survived. All the humans and all the fae understood that they too, had to master the magic; leash their libido.
A woman in this magic-rich, modern world needed to be able to hold within her a frenzied estrus more powerful even than the urge to breathe, she had to use these yearnings, allow them to empower her, use the magic to become a hyper-voluptuous sex-pot, yet always constrain the lusts within the envelope of human dignity.
Violet's brow furrowed; would her control slip when the time came? She needed the sex-magic to control her tits; she needed the magic for the Shirt-buster, Sleight-of-boob, and Dairyland competitions, but could she maintain her sanity? Would she be carried away by security after surrenduring to the magic, and trying to rape the audience? Her double-KK's jiggled a bit in anticipation; always worse than the actual performance. Briefly, Violet wished that she possessed the special, vaginal glands that fae females did, to unleash their psychotropic sexual attractant, for when the male sex-drive needed a boost. If the atheltic human was going to loose herself in the lust, she hoped at least that she could get the men in the audience equally excited; nothing was worse than those times when a girl went 'Nympho', (to use the vernacular) and the men to whom she presented her naked sex tried to act like gentlemen! At least....that was what Fae thought...er...NO! She was human! She should be ashamed at the thought of being used as a breeding bitch! Shouldn't she? Violet shook her head, to clear it. It must be the magic worming its way into her mind, to make her every bit the slut that Marina was.
**********
Uh oh...Jackson had meant well, but it had been a mistake to leave the little green-haired Fae girl alone in his apartment. There was the rush of water as he climbed the stairs and...yikes! She'd left the kitchen faucet on! Probably for hours! water trickled from his sink onto the linoleum, forming a slippery hazard for the unwary. Glasses, cups, and various drinking containers lay strewn about the living area, and every single window, shade, and shutter was open to the world.
And then there were the moans. No...more like growls...coming from his locked bedroom! That voice...feminine but deeper...deeper than any child's voice.
"RAAAAHHH!" it was half-roar, half-grunt.
"YAAAAAH!" Was it...pleasure? As he approached the door to his bedroom, there was an low, steady beat, accompanied by a higher, instrumental whine...music of some sort...drumbeat...and a saxophone..and..oh dear...down by the door, discarded lay a DVD box, it was *gulp* one of his 'Adult' videos!
There were dozens of ideas, fears, theories, that flitted like winged madness through Jackson's mind as he stared intently at his bed, and what was on it. It situations like this, when you're confronted by the impossible, the illogical, the first thing is to think back on the day and try to remember if anyone had cast a spell on you; however minor. But Jackson couldn't think of when anyone might have ensorcelled him today. Yet, how else to explain the impossible sight that greeted him?
After eight hours of shopping, Jackson had returned to find not a little Fae girl around 7-8 years in age, but a sleek, sensuous sex-pot on the chronological cusp between her prime of beauty and her prime of fertility. Even sprawled in delicious nudity upon his rumpled covers, he could see that her size and shape were perfect; tall enough to convey the impression of hearty vitality, yet still short enough that a man could feel powerful when holding her to his body.
"Wh-what...what did you do with...with Dydra..." Jackson stammered, his stocky musculature tensed in as much anxiety as lust. The sleek woman upon his bed might not have heard him; so engrossed as she was. This....woman, clearly did know, (or figured out) how to operate his DVD and was wailing with ecstatic passion at the lurid images splayed across the Television. The busty elf Tatianna was getting it doggy-style, and it was plain to the audience that, unlike 20th century porn-starlets, she wasn't faking anything.
The forest-haired hussy clutched yet more DVD cases to her shapely body; grasping them as if the pornographic videos were pictures of her long-lost children. She grunted, masturbating her nude cunt with the T.V. remote, rivulets of fragrant girl-cum dribbling from the engorged lips of her randy womanhood. Cases bearing titles like, 'Fae Gone Wild', and 'Clito-clysm' were grasped with delicate; white-knuckled fingers. But Jackson didn't have *that* many titles like this. Just a few. Not too many. Having just a few of them made you 'Open-Minded'. But not too many. Not too many.
And yet, that body the cases were pressed to could not long escape his notice. Her skin was a subtle shade of silken gold of such sublime perfection, that her flesh itself seemed like a hypnotic pattern. No trace of a mole, scratch, scar, or blemish. Like many Fae, the seemingly air-brushed perfection of her skin appeared almost contrived. More amazing yet were her boobs; in a way that Jackson never expected.
Why....these were the smallest tits he'd ever seen on a Fae! Her mammaries were perfect, half-sphere hand-fulls, yet in size they were more like apples than the wobbling melons of titflesh common to the otherworldly females, perhaps a little under what should be a D-cup in a bra; if Fae ever wore bras. Jackson realized that he'd never seen a Fae wear a bra; and Man, was it easy to tell! Yet...this being's bosoms were well within the range for a human! Such a shock after growing accustomed to the giggly, undisciplined, supernatural sluts with absurd udders of jiggly boob that should result in crippling back problems if the creatures were human.
But who...how did she get in? And where was little Dydra?
"Wh-who...you're not...you can't be..."
"Dydra." she answered.
It should be impossible, and yet...that face...that elegant face that seemed almost half-asian, half-caucasian, and something otherworldly was...no! was it...?...the face was familiar! Though larger, he could recognize some of the child's features in this obviously adult female. Could...could the little Fae girl have blossomed into a fully-functional adult over just these few hours? There was the Man's shirt that he'd found her in; discarded on the bed-post. Amazing; but then some women that had been magically impregnated could finish their pregnancies in mere hours; some magical offspring maturing at impossible speeds inside a human womb. Could they grow so fast after already being born?
His speculation ceased when the creature turned those glistening, emerald eyes to him; to really see him. A curious expression, almost predatory crossed her preternatural features, as she looked to him; and to the elf Tatianna getting happily gang-banged by a football team on screen. And to him again. Her eyes then focused upon the front of Jackson's pants-and the noticeable bulge. Her expression focused; as if she were trying to solve a math problem.
On screen, Tatianna squeeled in glee as a beefy, black line-backer began unlacing his tights. The ecstatic elf grasped the garments; the fabric seeming to melt away before her magical, lusty touch. The silvery-haired faerie, commonly reknowned as the Goddess of Porn, eagerly enveloped the human's mighty meat between her moist, kissable lips. The creature claiming to be Dydra saw this, and then looked at Jackson's pants, and the realization hit her.
Almond-shaped, emerald eyes widened in surprise, as if she'd just found the Holy Grail. Jackson could almost see the lightbulb in her mind light up; as she made the connection between the man before her, and the penises on screen. Heh! She was young.
"COCK!" she shouted, almost accusingly. A delicate finger pointing straight to Jackson's crotch.
"Heh! You solved the mystery! But um..."
"COCK!!" she thumped a delicate hand upon the bed, eyes wide with wondrous excitement; voice raised in what was clearly a demand.
Her next action was simple, yet Jackson could feel the pull of mighty magics. With a sultry snarl, she tossed her green hair, thrust forth her bosom, and fixed him with a 'come-hither' look. Yet she also seemed to change shape, to change appearance in a way that defied reality. Her face and form, already sensuously voluptuous suddenly had become the most perfect, most erotic visage Jackson could have ever imagined! Her body took on a supernatural grace and refinement so sublime that his brain burned to look at her. He knew instinctively that nothing in the world could seem more seductive or beautiful than Dydra did right now; as his shuddering body took halting steps forward.
He tried to speak, he tried to say something, anything; but his body was slipping away from him. Whatever glamour magic the faerie creature possessed, Jackson found he could no more control himself in her presence than he could will his heart to stop beating. Indeed, he could feel his heart accelerating; blood pounding in his ears, as his breath became rapid. His cock shot forth almost as if saluting the glorious beauty before it. He could literally feel his self-control slipping away, and Jackson was trapped within his own mind, within his own desire. Every thought he could muster involved nothing but the smoothness of her silken skin; the spherical delight of her rounded boobs; pink aureoles darkening to rich brown as though her womanly flesh was preparing itself for something. The flickering shimmer of eyes radiant as an emerald meadow, boring into him from a face that seized his mind and compelled him to experience more beauty; more lust than any human had a right to.
Was there a reason not to tackle her, a reason not to caress her body with hands, lips, and penis? Was there anything in the world of value besides her breasts, and slender curves of her ripely voluptuous frame? Dimly, Jackson remembered that there was more to life than screwing this faerie creature; there was more to the universe than this impossibly feminine body before him; yet nothing else seemed to matter at this point; The broad-shouldered, crew-cut stud could scarcely imagine any reason why he would not press his naked body to her own lush nudity, and then enter her cauldron of dripping delight with his masculine lance. Even Tatianna on screen, her unearthly mammaries sandwiching a beefy, black cock that was ejaculating upon her ecstatically giggling, inhumanly elegant face, seemed to hold no appeal.
"I...I'm under...a spell..." he declared from quivering lips. His rational mind making a last, desperate gasp to cling to reason. But it didn't matter; knowing that he was under a spell did not help him resist the effect. While it was apparent his behavior, his feelings were unnatural; he had no desire, no motivation to resist the impulse. Whatever sorcery the fae creature had put upon him was more wondrously pleasurable than any sane, human emotion. Jackson would not have broken the spell upon him even if he could; and he most certainly could not.
He could only lick, suck, fondle, caress, and finally....at long last...penetrate.
**********
It must feel like this to be on fire. To have one's body utterly consumed with raw energy. Yet as Jackson writhed with narrow-minded ecstasy beneath Dydra, the pure energy of the mating burned his senses with multiple flavors of joy. Each time his beefy, calloused hands made their way down the velvety trail of female flesh between the creature's perfect breasts and the downward curve to her crotch, he was assaulted with pulses of electric lust. Her perfect face, with high cheekbones complementing a finished perfection that was otherwordly in essence, had lost most of her coquettish mischief. Her puffy lips were twisted into more of a snarl, and rather than the cries of feminine delight, her wailing were more like those of a beast at hunt, tearing into hapless prey. Yet it was not fangs, but rather her pussy that he should fear.
She had immediately taken control of the mating; Jackson was so disoriented at the fiery pleasure of mere skin contact with the faerie creature that he had almost gone limp as the waves of lust assailed him. Dydra's wild joy at finally touching a male penis had driven her into a state of almost feral madness. Again and again, she tried to bounce herself up and down, off an onto Jackson's pelvis, as high as she could and still keep his penis within her. The inner muscles within the slippery chasm of her drooling womanhood were not merely squeezing his cock for dear life, it was as though they were commanding him to grow larger, longer.
Her swaying boobs hypnotized him, making it more difficult to recall whether there was anything in life more valuable, or important than touching Dydra's body, and ejaculating into her cunt. That was a good question; had Jackson come yet? He had felt the tightening burst of raw ecstasy that normally accompanied the explosion of his seed, yet the drive, the intensity of the sex had not diminished. Should he not become limp after orgasming? Yet the she-creature gasping atop him was clearly very much enjoying herself; his penis pleasuring her beyond anything she had ever known; as it was with Jackson.
The confusion arose because the pleasure of her cunt did not seem to build as it did during a normal rutting. Jackson did not climb a peak into ever-greater pleasure, the mountain of lust had simply overwhelmed him once he entered the creature. Just being inside the churning lips of her vaginal paradise brought as much pleasure as...as anything he could have ever imagined. And thus, Jackson could not tell if...or when he had orgasmed or not. What remained of his reason struggled with the dilemma, even as his fingers squeezed the hand-sized perfection of her silken boobs, even as his tongue flicked the hard nubbin of a boldly erect nipple, his crippled intellect tried to make sense of it all.
*LSLIPLLE* The sexual juices churned out by their genitals had fully lubricated cock and cunt alike. The junction between their two bodies pumped like a velvety jackhammer, as Dydra ground her crotch upon his meaty member. He might have cum inside her, perhaps not. It might be that the strength of her vice-like vagina had not released even a drop of precious male seed, and it was merely girl-juice and pre-cum that slickened their bodies.
He concentrated on his cock; and could sense only a joyous tension. His cock and balls ached with a fiery delight, yet the sensations coming from his beefy manhood were alien to him; his body was responding in unpredictable ways to the erotic prowess of this fairy slut.
Then he felt it; his hips, his pelvis throbbing, leaping of their own accord! Surely that was a sign that even now, his sperm was jetting from him, to fill the slippery heaven engulfing his manhood, hopefully to create yet another fertile burden to the Nation's overtaxed adoption agencies.
**********
The orgasm did indeed increase Jackson's pleasure, yet his mind was already exhausted to capacity, unable to process the sensation; so his grip on reality faltered. Jackson was loosing his mind, wasn't he? He should be loosing his grip on reality the way his chest seemed to be swelling. There was no explanation for that. He blinked his eyes several times, alternating between the jiggling delight of Dydra's bosom, and the strange mounds appearing on his own chest. And why did he feel so...frail? Was his bed larger? And....why did he pull out of Dydra's cunt? He hadn't wanted to; his penis simply...retracted?
"No more male." announced Dydra casually, in a harmonic voice as sweet as a river of honey. She shuddered once or twice, face contorted in a sexual afterglow. And her tits, lovely globes of otherworldy delight, began to..to...
"BOOBS!" screamed Jackson. Not her boobs, *his* boobs?! The smooth hemispheres swung lazily upon his chest like fleshy pendulums of femininity. Vast, engorged nipples tingled with heightened sensitivity. They were slightly upturned, the nipples, as if triumphant. They shuddered then, Jackson felt a swell, a rush of heat as the apple-sized orbs began to stretch outward, forward; rosy nipples angling ahead. And...and... "PUSSY!"
Not hers; his own. That was why he thought he had pulled out; because he was no longer a he! Her vagina was throbbing softly, gently, as if recovering from a toe-curling orgasm. The tiny nub, the hard clit above her slit was stinging, almost searingly hot; was that all that remained of his dick? Where Jackson's legs had been toned, hairy and solid; Her legs were now slender, silken towers of feminine grace. She...Jack...no...she would have to call herself....Jacqueline now!
Jaqueline could only watch mesmerized as the creature that had done this to him/her. Dydra's back arched as breasts began to jiggle, and throb, and grow. Her boobs, before not quite the size of coconuts, now inflated like rising bread dough, and the green-haired fairy slut took a grunting breath with each half-inch. Five breaths...six...her mammaries pushed the boundaries of almost all athletic balls, and she might yet surpass the size of a basketball. Eight grunts....ten....the velvet shadow of her cantilevered chest had now darkened her navel, where her delicate hands were caressing in circles the tiniest swell....
"Pregnant..." Jaqueline murmured; sensing the truth instintively. The creature had used his seed, drained him dry to impregnate herself, and in the process had completely drained his manhood! Jacqueline wanted many things; a part of her wanted revenge, she wanted to reverse the transformation; but more than all of that; the fires burning in her blood, in her boobs, in her cunt demanded satisfaction. She wanted to join Dydra, to become pregnant as well, even more than she wanted her dick back! On a sudden impulse, she licked the Fae's pussy; reverently caressing hips and thighs. Somehow, Jaqueline could not react with anger, or violence.
Many Fae tended to be pacifistic, using magical trickery instead of force. Part of the reason they were accepted as much as they were, inspite of lewd behavior, and birth rates as great as many kinds of insects, was the fact that they almost never resorted to violence. If magic didn't work, they simply performed sexual favors for their enemies; this devastating combination of magic and fellatio diffused most danger. Perhaps it was only coincidence, but very few humans used violence against the Fae. So it was now. Instead of a yell or slap, all Jaqueline could do was lick, fondle that pussy, tweak the growing nipples; now hanging like great melons of erotic promise. The creature's tits were now very close to the bowling-ball baseline size most common to faerie mammaries. Now the creature really did look like many other Fae creatures, all she needed was to devour Jackson's very manhood. Leaving him with DD-cup boobs, baby-soft skin, birthing hips, and girly tush that wouldn't quit. Hmm....birthing hips....that was what she wanted. More than being turned back into a man, Jackie wanted to surrender herself to a man- any man; and allow him to spurt his cream, to jet his seed into her newly-minted womb. It was a case of Body-over-Mind; Jackie hated what had been done to her; was shocked by the transformation, but this body had needs; her newly feminine state had desires too; overwhelming desires. She wanted to swell with magical infants, like...like that poor human woman in the Emergency Overflow Adoption clinic #12. Jackie did not know if the faerie could or would change her back; she only knew that needed a good screw from a hard penis even more than her old life. Intellectually, that was the last thing she wanted, but the burning need; like a searing current of carnal lightning, was more powerful than any of the emotions of her previously unmagical life.
As she shambled naked into the street; still adjusting to her new centers of gravity; Jackie hoped that the first man she encountered was a caring one. She did not think she would be able to resist the first man willing to pat her tush, to grab her grape-fruit sized boobs, or to tweak a nipple. In fact the burning, female need was so exquisite; She suspected that she might loose all control the first time a man ogled her naked tits. She would have to stop thinking about her old life, she was a woman; a slut now. And she could neither ignore, nor resist the biological clock ringing out of control in her pussy. It really was a grand adventure; randomly picking a man to father her first litter of young.
A Grand Adventure......
Before disengaging, collapsing back onto the bed, enjoying the ending of Tatianna's lurid adventures; which of course concluded with a massive girl-girl orgy. Dydra settled back, began rubbing the mons above her pussy, while cooing softly.
***********
24 hours ago.....
"Hey miss; I...I know you're....Fae...and...you're proud to be a slut but...." the naked, ripe girl with shimmering green hair smiled blissfully as he spoke. He was a taller, lanky guy. With an auburn-reddish head of hair in a functional center-part. His grey eyes were wide with a mixture of compassion and bemusement.
"You are male." proclaimed the fae with bold confidence.
"Uhhm...y-yes...I sure am; and what-"
"I am female." she stated; boring into him with her delicately slanted, emerald eyes, as if this manifest fact was not obvious from the ripe, jiggling nudity of the fairy-creature's curvaceous figure.
"I...I can see that," he barely had time to loosen his collar before the onslaught of golden skin and voluptuous boob-flesh engulfed him. She was upon him with a feral grunt, as the reddish-haired man tried to stand up out of the seat of his red convertible. Her teasing hands, her swaying hips, the hardening of her rosy nipples conveyed the truth to him far better than mere words: This creature, this luscious, slutty creature had simply no understanding of sexual restraint; for her, to see a man was to mate with him. Their bodies joined like opposite poles of a magnet; drawn together and belonging together by mutual desire. It was a simple, uncomplicated philosophy, and the moist warmth of her slippery labia as she ground against his rapidly-disrobing body was going a long way towards making him a convert.
She seemed to crave every inch of his male flesh, luridly licking him all over, nibbling his shoulders near his cresent-shaped birthmark.
**********
"But....I'm a woman! Like you! How could you betray me like this?" asked F.B.I. agent Linda Pryce, her back to the wall, her chin-length red hair tousled and covering her right eye. The busty woman giggled.
"You don't understand Linda, and I can't explain it; I'll leave that job to his Penis!" Her captor was a platinum blond, career-minded fellow female agent by the name of Sara Tyler. At least, she'd been career-minded up until a week ago.
"You lied to me! You got me into this abandoned warehouse and...and you're going to let that Beast have me?" Linda cried in shock. Sara had stolen and hidden all her sidearms, leaving her defenseless, and in the path of the Suspect. What was she saying? Suspect-nothing; that monster had impregnated hundreds of women; perhaps more without their consent! There was no denying it!
"You'd let that monster...rape me? For what?" argued Linda. Sara only twittered again.
"Silly! Haven't you ever wondered why none of the women ever pressed charges? The Breeding is the most erotic, affirming experience imaginable! Once you've known it; you'll do as I do; you'll want to put as many women in his path as possible; to be bred. Impregnated." Sara took a step closer, eyes widening. "Seeded." Linda still wanted to reason with her former partner.
"Wh-.." but before she could speak, the pounding began. The retractable door to the warehouse was dented in by a massive fist.
"Run." the only answer came to her; she had no choice! She had to flee! But the doors were locked; but...one of them in the back....Running with all her might, Linda jump-kicked the door with every muscle! It was enough! The lock shattered!
And Agent Linda Pryce was staring at the greatest penis she had never imagined. Over a foot long, the erect, olive-loaf shaft of manmeat mesmerized her. Her fear was overwhelmed! Conquered by a sudden surge of curious yearning. Linda could not say why she licked the penis. She could tell herself no lie; she could not explain why she took the shaft into her mouth and licked the slit; suckling down the invigorating pre-cum. Her body made her do it; her womanhood made her grasp, and lick, and suck the penis.
Linda thought of herself as level-headed and rational, yet this beast had somehow turned her feminine nature against her! Her rational mind tried to rebel; she wanted to escape! She didn't want to become another one of the monster's victims! In seconds, all reason failed her.
She was scarcely aware of the tingling, leaping throb in her tits as her black skirt dug painfully into her skin. No....it wasn't her skirt; her hips were widening! Her ass throbbed with expansion, growth. It was the first stage! The Beast converted his prey; his unique magic preparing her for breeding.
"Look at what's coming! Look what you will receive!" shouted Sara, ripping open her own flimsy blouse to reveal the jiggling bounce of pale mammaries as long as her forearm, as wide as a ruler is long. Sara's hardened nipples seemed to point towards the penis, the rigid, pink nubs seeming larger by the second.
"I was flat as a board! Now; I've got tits bigger than an elf! And libido to match!" she purred. "All you must do is bear his young!" Sara hastily shed herself of every stitch of clothing; and while waiting her turn, she slid naked to the floor, legs spread, chest thrusting out; posturing herself for the beast.
"GOOD CUNT!!" Sara screamed. "NEED COCK!" Linda could only shake her head at the insanity of it all. But then, she could only groan as her bra was savaged by the fleshy melons within. They tried to warn her, tried to stop her! They'd claimed that no female agent would be capable of taking the Beast into custody; Linda had scoffed; she thought they were being chauvinistic! She never believed that it would be her breasts that blossomed from mere peaches, on in size until her womanly hemispheres became apples; with each throbbing twinge, each breast felt more alive, more invigorated than ever! She grunted as her hyper-feminized ass and hips ruptured her skirt. Her wide pelvis would bear many, many young; and breasts now as large as grapefruits would feed them.
Linda Pryce felt a new....a new self rising within her. A slutty, horny personality. Her eyes widened as she felt her mind transforming into a lascivious morass of pornagraphy. Her sense of duty to the Law, to Country was switched; inverted into a lust for cock, and a craving for male penetration. The new Linda did not need to wait and see how large her tits would become; she did not need to see if her rosy-capped canteloupes upon her chest would continue to enlarge into the size of volleyballs as they soon did!
She spread her legs, her pussy already wet; her ripened hips tingled with need; she was born to mate, created to take the Beasts' seed inside of her!
"GOOD CUNT..." Thundered the booming voice.
**********
From backstage, Violet knew that she was lucky to have even made it this far; humans had the advantage of greater discipline in controlling the fertility magic, while for Fae the magic itself came easier. But for pixies, the very essence of Bosom Building came naturally. Much of their magic related to the manipulation of size. Thus, Violet's heart sank as the purple-haired pixie, known as Titty stalked onto the glittering stage. The little sprites were merely cute in their natural state, no greater than 6 inches high; but when exercising that size-altering magic, they could easily multiply their stature. At full, humanoid height the amusing little fairies became ravishing sex-pots; the total lack of male pixies gave their seduction an edge of desperation; rather than the frivolous, submissive surrender of most Fae when confronted by a horny human male, the pixies rarely waited for men to come to them. When one of the winged fairy creatures sensed lust in a man, she was as likely as not to boldly present herself, and grasp his cock through his pants to leave no doubt concerning her intentions.
And so it was with Titty, easily the favored contender for this circuit. Where Marina the mermaid had hoped to entice the audience into a mass orgy; The cold gleam in the pixie's purple eyes sent a message to the crowd that she was woman enough to make them all her sexual prey. The Pixie race would not die out anytime soon as long as her womb was in service!
From backstage; Violent felt her heart sink; her breasts unconsciously withdrawing in size to a mere double I -cup, a size just outside the range of a 20th century, big-bust, porn-stripper. Her technique was flawless! From a size no larger than overripe coconuts, the pixie's precocious cleavage between those boobs deepened. But one could not see any of the tell-tale jerks, leaps, jiggles, or bounces so common with rapid, self-controlled breast expansion. Instead, the fleshy orbs enlarged beyond the diameter of bowling balls with no perceptible disturbance of her glossy skin. It was as if her bosoms grew ever closer to the viewer at a steady pace. Yet the approach of the hard-nubbed spheres towards the audience occured in perfect correlation to Titty's strutting upon the stage. Her soundtrack was a Pre-conjunction rock song...
" Well, East-Coast girls are Hip,
I really diiiig the styles they weeeaar..."
The human-sized pixie wore a stylish set of glittering sunglasses, yet as she sauntered closer to the center of the stage; she discarded the shades, and from up above, an over-sized Ten-gallon cowboy hat plummeted from an unseen area above the stage and landed with perfect aim directly upon her lustrous mane of purple hair. The only flaw so far was the way her little pixie antennae curled up reflexively as the headgear landed. But the judges might not have even seen the subtle twitch.
"A-and the Southern Girls with the way they talk,
They knock me out when I'm down there..."
And Titty's voluptuous curves had scored a knockout with the male audience, to be sure. The darkened valley between her womanly hemispheres had stretched from 5, to 8 inches of curvacious shadow, as the boobs themselves rolled smoothly through all the classes of bra-sizes for the preposteroulsy endowed. From the former coconut size, her glistening globes enlarged into grand dimensions similar to the halves of a healthy watermelon as she reached the edge of the stage, turned sideways with a sensuous saunter of her magically-generous hips and ass.
Suddenly, the Ten-gallon hat was thrown off with a graceful brush of her delicate fingers, revealing a red and white polka-dotted hankerchief tied together at the back of her head.
"The Midwest Faaarmer's daughter....
Reaally maaake you fee-eeel alrii-iight..."
Though she was off-stage, Violet was now direcly behind the bouncing, bikini-clad slopes of the pixie's supernaturally perky ass-cheeks. With sadness, she marveled at the spectacular muscular control that enabled her rump to rise and fall in a way that rhythmically accentuated each step, and each sway of her wide, birthing hips. With a dramatic flourish, the hankerchief was tugged off, revealing a white ski-cap with a blue, fluffy bun on top...
"A-and the Northern Girls with the way they kiss,
They keep their boyfriends warm at night...."
The pixie must has studied; the way she framed her lips, face and dainty figure, seemed to masterfully revive old images of the classical, Pre-conjunction starlet, Marilyn Munroe. No male in the audience would expect to become overly cold at night if Titty were their girlfriend, whilst she blew a kiss to the audience. Returning to the center of the stage, the Ski-cap came off....
"I wish they all could be Californiaaa...
I wish they all could be Californiaaaaah...
wish they all could be Californiaaaaaah...
Giiiiiiiirrllllss!"
This was probably not what David Lee Roth intended, but the wild applause indicated that the audience found it an appropriate tribute to the pixie's adopted homeland. And her hair wasn't even mussed. Worse, her expansion seemed to be timed so that at this point, her smoothly growing bosoms were now very close to the size of beach-balls. The perfect, seamless expansion had pushed her womanly spheres through and beyond the realms of conventional fruit. Just as she had taken the stage, her bazookas had just been transcending the size of grapefruits, the music had begun at canteloupe size, the perfect mammaries enlarging down, forward, and outwards, for brief instance approximating a thicker, softer version of a football, in under 2 seconds becoming basketballs. No jerks, wobbles, jiggles, or even reflexive spurts of milk.
"I been all around this great big world
And I seen all kinds of girls;
Yeah, but I couldn't wait to get back in the states,
Back to the cutest girls in the World..."
The singer's words were made disturbingly accurate by the high Fae population on America's West Coast; but again, not quite what he originally intended.
Beneath the purple bikini was another dimension; which was also of some relevance for scoring. The best bosom builders were expected to maintain control over the reactions of their nipples. A girl could choose to keep them hard, or soft, but they should remain constant during the dance-routine showcase. Special video screens at the Judges' booth were linked to on-stage cameras that focused with pin-point accuracy upon the nipples of every contestant, for judgment. And in this event, a girl's nipples must not leak, no matter how engorged her fertile form became.
Titty's nips had begun as diamond-hard nubs that tented the fabric of her bikini top in a constant state of feminine arousal, and they had stayed that way. The proportion her nipples and aureoles maintained was perfect. Towards the final chorus, the one about the California girls, the edges of her aureoles had expanded beyond the meager covering of the over-taxed bikini. Many fae possessed an unearthly, golden color to their nipples, and the champagne-colored patch of skin revealed itself during the final chorus, the patches of colored skin showed an area the size of a coaster, with thimble-sized nipples.
While not athletic, her Breast Growth technique was flawless! Could any mere human hope to compete?
**********
He had warned them, they knew they shouldn't have been back here. Old Gus was used to the hedonist antics of the sex-starved college kids, and the old grounds-keeper had even begun to accept the Fae, had to when you were a groundskeeper at any University these days. but there had to be rules. That was when the violence happened....so he thought... but it all happened so fast...
He thought he had tripped over a root of some sort; but it was more than that, a root or tentacle or something had....grabbed him, and was now pulling him, dragging him underground! Down into a burrow of churned earth! Old Gus's panic was temporarily assuaged by a tube being thrust down his throat, pushing fresh oxygen into his lungs. But there was no stopping the fear that claimed him in that moment; the moment that the caressing began. Underground, emmeshed in the loose, fertile soil around the Greenhourse small tendrils began to caress his skin. Under his clothes, hugging his body, a network of fine, slithering vines wrapped him in a cold embrace. The fear, the baser part of his brain immediately conjured images of animal predation and carnivory, but...the way they touched him...the way they tickled his entombed body....it was almost...erotic?
The Trap seized him then, or rather, something seized his penis. He felt a strong tug, his suspenders torn away, and a new, hollow appendage went straight for his crotch. The yielding softness of the silky grip reminded him of a...of nothing so much as a flower petal...it caressed and cajoled his hardly impressive five inches of cock gingerly and then...
"*MMM-HMMM!!*"
He could not even scream, not even writhe in shock as some tiny tube, some small protrustion entered his shaft! Something unnatural had slithered into his manhood and...and....
The ground above him shuddered, even though scant evidence of Gus' passage was visible, still the soil shook with the fury of his jerking. He could not say whether the sensation was pain or pleasure; he only knew that it was more intense than a burn from a hot iron. He could not say whether something was being added to his penis, or taken from it; he only knew that something incredible was happening inside the depths of his manhood. The violation was profoundly unnatural and disturbing in the extreme, yet oddly, Gus didn't want it to end.
A core of heat built up in his crotch, spreading to his entire body. A tight knot of erotic sensation; like a lurid itch that he could not scratch. Gus could only shudder in....was it pain? Was it yearning? He did not know. The sensation knot built up, spreading to his limbs and chest; as pleasurable as the erotic heat felt, he wanted it out of him, he wanted the core of energy out of his body. In a moment of hazy dementia, clouded with an implacable lust humanity was never meant for, he willed the heat out of him, he willed the knot of sensation outside of him in a long, drawn out flow like nothing so much as an ejaculation.
Gus didn't remember much after that; after he had....had he cum? He felt a sense of tantalizing, sexual release as all the stress and fear rushed out of him. He was no longer aware of his clothing, and he felt so much lighter...freer...inspite of his imprisonment. And yet; he was no longer buried in the soil; he felt powerful, vine-like tendrils pulling and yanking and thrusting him into a hollow, tubular chamber. The breathing tube was there, and he no longer felt fear or panic. Only a sublime relaxation borne of deep, sensual gratification.
Whatever it was that had penetrated him, inserted something deep into his manhood had returned; it was a potent, electric stimulation coupled with a thrilling fire of searing ecstasy. The strange, unnatural ravishing seemed coupled into three, discrete climaxes. It was as if something impacted deep into Gus' crotch; three times. Something that drove him into a soaring height of erotic bliss that...
"EEEEYAAAAAAAHHH!!!" the voice was not his own. Yet it came from Gus' mouth as something pushed him back into the open air. Naked, slippery limbs tumbled out of the tree trunk, collapsing into the soft grass. There were...wait...he felt lighter...his beer-belly gut was gone! His hairy arms and legs were....no....so smooth, so feminine?
Rather than a rotund, 50-ish gardener, with a scruffy, salt-and-pepper ring of receding hair, the body that housed Gus' intelligence was that of a sultry sexpot. She was covered in some sort of moist, sweet sap, causing her pale skin to gleam in the dim twilight. It was difficult for Gus to see her new, womanly legs, because bosoms jutted out from this soft, woman's chest; buxom bazookas that thrust out proudly as far into the air as the squash he had been growing in his home garden, yet the feminine globes, capped by taut and rosy nipples bulged outward in all directions as fervently as the balloons used in the party to celebrate Gus' 50th birthday. And yet, that was impossible; that was not his body; this body couldn't be a day over....25 at the most! The plant had taken him; it had consumed not only his manhood, but his age, leaving nothing but a jiggling example of naked womanhood.
These breasts; so high, so....perky? He'd seen smaller footballs than these teats, and they....he had to...to touch....As slender hands grasped turgid nipples, the slut that had been Gus the Gardener tilted back her head to release a throaty cry. This was the type of woman she'd....he'd always lusted after! Raven-black hair drifted over her emerald green eyes as she succumbed to the inescapable urge to grope herself. The confused wreakage of Gus' mind was surveying the voluptuous remnants of who he used to be. As she was fondling her expansive, taut-nippled bosom in shock and awe, the lust hit. The raven-haired 20-something slut that had been ol' Gus had never imagined a sensation like this; The jabs of passion were like searing hot coals; stabs from a red-hot poker into the new, moist lips of her pussy. Yet despite the fury of the sensation; a perverse part of her did not want it to end. It should have been painful, yet the feeling made her more alive; filled her with a renewed zest and vitality. Somehow...it...it must have to do with...that feeling earlier, as if that magical plant-creture had put something inside her! Was that it? It must be! Without thinking, she knew that her pussy needed to be penetrated; with a throaty moan she groped at her crotch.
It was then that she saw it; a reflection from a nearby streetlight came to her off the window of one of the Greenhouses. She gazed at a pert-nosed, pouty-lipped porn-star, tousled mane of midnight hair and flawless skin slick with a sweet-smelling substance that could only be...eh.....tree-sap? But it was when she saw the reflection of her melon-like mammaries in the glass, not quite so large as a pair of soccer balls, that Gus fell completely in lust with herself.
Sometimes, if you had a bad itch; it felt so good, almost euphoric to stratch it, yet at the same time you knew it was wrong; you knew it might hurt you, that this whole situation was a bad trip. Yet, the woman that had been Gus could not stop; she couldn't stop fingering her pussy; the man trapped inside was consumed with lust for the female he had become! And so there were many positions she tried; the slippery slut curled her fingers into a claw-shape, groping and penetrating herself, as her womanhood moistened with hopeless yearning. She tried different shapes, hoping for the optimum stimulation. Tightening her middle finger, she thrust! with an audible *SHLUK* she drove deep into the curves and folds of her molten cunt. Again! *SLUK* Again! *SHLURP* It was width she needed next; bending all the fingers of her left hand at the knuckles, she was plunging a bundle of fingers into herself when...
"I thought I heard a woman...cry, scream or something!" came a youthful, vigorous, and male voice. He was The chest-nut haired, with a lean and wiry 6-soot frame, a prominent nose, and smooth-shaven skin. His blue eyes focused upon a nude, slimy slut splaying herself obscenely in the dirt. Breasts jiggling rhythmically atop her torso, nipples engorged like cement pencil erasers, grinding her left hand into her own pussy; a look of desperate, inconsolable lust etched upon her exquisite yet perky face.
"Awwwwwwesome!!" he exclaimed. "I saw a lot of this back at my High School; you've had some kind of weird, magical accident right?" his eyes focused enthusiastically upon her. The long-haired, huge-boobed female that was once in charge of the Greenhouses could only nod slightly in acknowledgment. "Yeah! And now; you're like...a total slut! It's those tits! It's like....these days, any woman with boobs that big becomes a crazy-ass nymphomaniac! Am I right?"
"I...I don't....I need....." without meaning it, her lips formed the words, and the searing need within her spoke. "P-penis..." she gurgled.
"SCORE!" yelled the wiry lad. He scooped her up, positioned her so that she could be cradled in his arms, while at the same time he could get a finger into her dripping snatch. He was an experienced youth, he'd seen magical accidents like this before, and new to keep the slut sexually stimulated constantly. If not for that, if not for the hand up her pussy; the woman that was now Gus would have tried to escape; she would have tried to seek medical help. But the shock, terror, and outrage at being so thoroughly transformed could not hope to outweigh the rapturous pleasure, the ecstatic hunger at this penetration. With each thrust, with each orgasm, she could feel her former identity slipping away. It became more difficult to remember her old life; female hormones were flooding her brain, and the erotic ecstasy was breaking her! Her body so craved the penetration, that she was unable to muster the willpower to even begin a struggle. She had to tell him that it was a mistake! She had to tell the guy carrying her back to his S.U.V. that this shouldn't be happening! His finger, his middle finger kept thrusting into her cunt as she tried...struggled to explain herself.
"M-more..." she moaned breathily.
**********
"Hmm...hey Cori, could you go over to the bed and screw him a few more times?" instructed Professor Lily, from the next room, bent over a selection of petri-dishes. The blond-haired fae-girl with what seemed like a golden sunburst tattooed on her forehead giggled.
"Wow," she exclaimed, the blond tail right above her ass twitched a bit. "He's still hard! It's like he never came at all!" The magical shapeshifter, who very much resembled a short, busty, blond 19-year old, felt her boobs throbbing, and her pussy growing moist.
"That's the problem; he'll keep struggling and might hurt himself unless he's got his penis inside a pussy. I need to run a few more tests...." The brilliant forest nymph was lost in her role as a moleclar biologist, putting her years of education to use. She'd seemed younger than the last time Cori saw her, but that wasn't unusual. While human woman wanted to look as young and attractive as possible, Many Fae tried to conceal their perky, youthful vitality with cosmetics designed to simulate the appearance of increasing age; otherwise it was psychologically impossible for humans to take them seriously, and respect them. If you ever catch an important, successful fae *without* her make-up, she would undoubtedly be far more attractive than in the office.
It seemed to the shapeshifting creature that Lily was giving up all that; here on vacation at least, she would not hide the fact that she had the body and face of a 20-year-old. Well, a 20-year old with canteloupe-sized tits, and hips wide enough to successfully carry a baby well into the 15th month. If fae pregnancies ever lasted that long.
"Oh, and save some of his sperm; I'll need to run more tests." Lily instructed. Happily, the blond fae creature opened wide her pink bathrobe, and straddled yet again that mighty, ram-rod-rigid penis. The door to the hotel slammed open. It was Lisa, the pixie. She had a deliriously happy look on her face; the look a human might have after a thorough alcoholic intoxication. And indeed, the pixie was enebriated; with sperm. Her hair, a natural shade of hot pink was speckled with white, and small rivulets of semen ran down her....well...all of her. Two of the four frilly wings that sprouted from her shoulder blades were sticking together, Dried sperm caking the transparent appendeges. It was a little known fact that great quantities of fresh, human semen directly ingested could produce a narcotic effect on the physiology of pixies.
"S'cuse me, girlfriend..." she murmured dreamily. "I gotta go gestate for awhile." All that remained of her clothing was a pink bikini-top. Her sleek legs and naked pussy had been bombarded with male ejaculate. Lisa rubbed her slightly engorged belly as she stumbled into another room of the hotel suite to nurture a batch of pixie-spawn inside her womb.
"Lisa! check out this guy's cock!" called Cori. The man, a taller fellow with a salt&pepper hair and beard was raging out of control, tied down to the four-post bed. Only a ball-gag in his mouth kept his screams from alerting the neighbours. His hairy body was clad only in Cori's pussy juice, from the copious release of female ejaculate prompted by the straining might of a ten-inch cock; red and angry with frustrated denial.
"Oh believe me....I've checked out enough Cock!" exclaimed the dreary pixie. "At least....for an hour or two."
"I swear, he's cum ten times! And he just seems to get harder!" Cori's silvery eyes widened. Even in her exhausted state, that got Lisa's attention. She stalked over, naked and dripping cum to study the nude and struggling human; penis aflame with lustful potency. It was inconceivable that a healthy human male could remain in such sexual tension in a room with both Cori and Lily! Any one of them would suck him dry eagerly! She'd heard the professor pining away awhile ago about wanting to become pregnant yet again...why was this man's penis still so painfully erect?
"I'm certain now," Lily stated, entering the room without a stitch of clothing. "This man....he's been...contaminated." she answered solemly. A Crysanthemum that grew naturally from her scalp seemed to fold up, petals closing as it retracted; a sure sign that the nymph was worried. The stern fae was holding in her hands several petri dishes, filled with little specks of bright green biomass.
"This man has been infected with Dryad spores."
**********
She had real hope; As Violet prepared for her routine, a small grin of triumph escaped her painted lips. The differences between fae and human were sharply constrasted today, the advantages and disadvantages of each very clear for the audience.
The contestant before her, a sparklingly beautiful elf with long, blue hair had lost it. She'd gone totally nympho. She'd seemed alright at first, but the combined stimulus of her own boobs, once they'd gotten past bowling-ball size, combined with the cat-calls of the men had triggered something in the elf. After languishing in the Land of Fairy for so long, with so few men, an audience like this with hundreds of virile males had been too much to bear. Violet knew that look; when her golden eyes widened like that, when her pointed ears started to twitch, ( a sure sign of arousal among elves) the human could sense that she was sliding into an abyss from which there was no return.
The Fae Lust had become so overwhelming; that the elf's mind was utterly submerged in the torrent of slutty yearnings. You could see the girl snap, right there on stage. In seconds, her higher brain functions had failed completely, as the elf hurled herself offstage at the audience, her urge to mate crushing all reason. She landed in a squatting pose, snarling with libidinous ecstasy, as she tore off her bikini bottom. You could see the muscles in her ass twitch as she blasted the crowd with a pungent dose of her pussy's unique sexual attractant.
The guys continued their lurid invitations and graphic reminders of the elf's voluptuous body for only a few seconds, even though they expected it; the elven rut musk still hit them like a biochemical sledgehammer. The men quivered in shock, as the pheromones assaulted their senses; and in seconds, they too had lost whatever intellect they'd possessed, consumed with the rut. Violet couldn't help but wonder; how close had Marina come to a similar surrender?
The Bouncers thought they were safer with gas masks on, as they battled the crowd in their efforts to remove the sex-starved elf. Well, that wasn't true, it wasn't that the elves, or pixies, or nymphs were sex-starved; just that too much was never enough for most fae. After a ferocious melee, the blue-haired elf was dragged from the auditorium; but even still her rutting brain did not comprehend the event; in her frenzied estrus, the elf could only imagine that the bouncers wanted her for themselves, and she was more than happy to oblige. And Violet could see that strained look in the eyes of the security professionals, despite their precautions, the elf's grinding, groping, seductive body was not something to be ignored. Many that observed the event were not surprised that the Bouncers took a long, long time to return after kicking the elf out of the auditorium. A loooong time...
The few extra moments that passed as the rutting elf was subdued gave Violet yet more time to compose herself. She had already changed her bikini twice, finally deciding on a flimsy two-piece covering of the thinest fabric that might still have a chance of containing her prodigious bosoms. The bikini ensemble was a deep, rich red. She'd learned in biology class that women's lips became most red during sexual arousal, thus the invention of lipstick. What most impressed the crowd initially was actually her minimum size; true Bosom Builders were able to adapt their mammaries for those rare times when they needed clothing that would accomodate breasts no larger than volleyballs. A champion contender, like her, or that bitch of a pixie could reduce themselves; but most women had no control over their tits after a fertility magic accident.
And yet Violet was able to shrink down her boobs, through great force of effort....into....*NGH*...in...a...d-...d-....Double-D cup! Her painfully compressed teats were no larger than grapefruit when first she strutted onto the stage! Yet she still retained that sappy, performers' smile, disengenuous, but a necessity for show-biz. To remain mobile with what where normally beach-ball breasts, she'd had to undergo a rigorous regimine of physical fitness and aerobics; it would pay off for those men that hungered after the svelte, firm musculature of fitness models, women healthy enough to run a marathon, yet not so muscular that she lost any curves. These men would enjoy the tanned sculpture of her towering legs, and the sense of vital strength pulsing beneath. They would grin at the sight of her rigid, 6-pack abdominals, and soon; all men would feel a twinge in their crotch when they first beheld what she could do with her boobs. The question was, would the judges prefer softly voluptuous women, that still remained mobile with 30-pound boobs? Or would the athletic look be seen as an acceptable strategy? It was a point of controversy in the Bosom-Building community.
"Goddess on the Mountaaainn Top....
Burnin' like a Silver Flame....
The summit of Beauty and Love....
And Venus was her name...."
Violet's Preconjunction song of choice was one that represented the fierce, obsessive yearning that women could provoke with the right means of seduction. And she had an advantage over the Fae; she did not want to start a gang-bang! She could complete an entire performance, and still retain her sanity! Yes, she craved sex with every fiber of her being, but she was still sane; still human!
Her tight belly undulated as she began a more subdued, but still seductive dance routine. Her toned abs and supple waist moved in waves as she thrust her bikini-clad pussy at the audience. She had some pride that her figure had remained unchanged after all that happened at college; like almost any girl with even a speck of beauty, Violet too had been impregnated and birthed a few magical offspring; I mean, what college coed hadn't these days? If you had any boobs to speak of, any curves at all, some tricky satyr or leprechaun would find some way to knock you up. And if you had no curves, some fae would zap you with a boob spell, and then breed you. But Violet was a survivor; she'd been sexually augmented, magically impregnated, but nothing would slow her down!
She's got it,
Yeah Baa-aby-
She's got it,
Violet's athelticism permitted a different Breast-growth tactic that the other preposterously-endowed women had not been able to pull off in this circuit. She gyrated wildly, before leaping into a cart-wheel. As she completed her third tumble, her breasts had enlarged by what seemed to be at least three more inches in width from their former, grapefruit status. With the adroit grace of her gymnast training, she kept her boobs in an almost constant jiggle, even as they blossomed forth.
Each tanned breast leapt like a thing alive, quakes of pure titflish as they exploded forward in size. It was not that Violet intentionally used magic to grow her bosom; she merely released her restraint over the fertile, bosom magic that burned in her blood. With each ripple, each bounce, boobs jerked forward toward the audience; obscuring their true size.
" Well, I'm your Venus,
I'm your Fire,
at your Desire...."
Slowing, she ran her manicured hand up over the taut strength of her steely legs, bronzed ski glistening in the spotlight. From her firm calves, in a circle up to her quads, a slight swell in her thighs from muscle, but her physique was balanced; her strength did not detract in the least from any of her womanly curves.
Her finger slid over her bikini-clad pussy, into the valley of her navel; finally reaching the base of the jiggly watermelons expanding upon her chest. Violet didn't think she could pull off ther perfect, seamless expansion of a pixie like Titty, but she had a different tactic.
" Well, I'm your Venus,
I'm your Fire,
at your Desire...."
Legs far apart, she stopped dancing, propped up her boobs in each hand, and let the growth take hold completely. She not only removed every restraint, she pushed her Bosom magic, allowing the crackling sorcery that burned within her to transform her body into the most voluptuously over-endowed form possible. As breasts jumped in size from mammalian mounds not unlike that of a pair of bloated watermelons onwards towards and through the size of standard beachballs, cleavage deepening, her heart fluttered a bit with the risk she was taking.
Only the most experienced and cunning Bosom Builders would push themselves to the limit like this, in competition. Her ass was filling out even more, and her boobs were quivering, growing, leaping and throbbing with sexual heat! Could she hold onto technique? As her hands were totally concealed beneath the swelling towers of teat, she felt her Girls heating up, and the tingling inside signifying extraordinary milk production. She was already bigger than that blue-haired elf was when she went Nympho; and with increasing voluptuousness, came increasing libido.
" Her weapons were her crystal eyes....
Making every man a man...
Black as the dark night she was....
Got what no-one else had! "
Her pleasant smile became a sinister leer, and her wide-eyed cheerfulness became a predatory glare, as the lust slammed into her. But Violet's weapons were far more than just her crystal eyes. There was no turning back now; even if she could contain her lust, her nipples would be spurting soon; but if it looked deliberate, she might not lose points! It was a somewhat subjective judging process. What she was doing was considered bad form; an unnacceptable risk. Bosom Builders only unleashed their full magic during training; to grow more accustomed to larger sizes and greater libidos. But Violet had a chance! Her legs were strong enough; unlike soft-bodies Contenders, she could remain standing even with migdet-sized breasts as now! Most girls lost mobility between beachball size and that of a bean-bag chair. But Violet was strong enough! Was she disciplined enough to keep from raping the audience? As the elf had tried?
Her bikini, even one designed from preposterous breasts was beginning to tear; ridiculous mounds thrust towards the audience; acres of tit resembling a pair of great cushions; larger than beang-bag chairs, yet not long enough to be a bed; yet. The mightily reinforced bikini began to fail; fabric unwinding, threads snapping. Which would erupt first? Would her lust crush her intellect? Would she leap screaming into the crowd of men, inhaling penises and posturing her soon-to-be naked ass for male penetration? Would her tits shatter the weakening bikini? Bursting out towards the cameras? So large were these teats, that it was impossible to see the quivering muscles of her tight belly, straining to support the mammoth udders each weighing as much as a 5th grader! Would her rosy nipples encircled by enlarging aurealos fail her first? Would jets of her breastmilk spew into the audience?
The crowd waited with baited breath......
"Well, I'm your Venus, I'm your fire, at your Desire....."