Another battle concluded, and another challenger was defeated. The beloved, yet dreaded, milkmage stands over her defeated foe in the stone-tiled arena. The white-scaled lizard woman must pull her titanic tits aside just to see the defeated challenger before her. The defeated fighter is a female raccoon, laying there naked and beaten, magical energy poofing up her fur.
“Oooh, so sorry, honey,” the milkmage Lactania coos, rubbing her hand under an enormous cupped breast. “You thought your spells were so powerful that you could take me on? I’m sorry, but that’s just not possible. Now, you’ll never have the right to say you’ve bested me.”
The raccoon whimpers, wincing and preparing herself for the ultimate humiliation.
The milkmage points her black nipples to the defeated foe. She moans softly through her nostrils and squeezes her tits in both hands, letting the magically-sweetened milk gush out from her nipples in fountains of glorious white. They splash down onto the raccoon, sprinkling onto her face while she groans, her ears pinned back.
And so it continues as such. Lactania defeats opponent after opponent. Some of them try their best to beat her, bringing forth their most fantastic magic spells, but her own skills are far better than theirs. Others are no more than mere perverts who fall to the most direct attack, their tongues out and their voices begging to be fed by her breasts. Lactania sweetens her milk for both kinds of fighters, for to her, they are both means to achieve her victory.
Her lactomancy is unparalleled. Casters from all corners of the map seek to face her. Each and everyone is left defeated and humiliated before the council of magic.
A minute later, the milkmage has her dress pulled back up over her breasts. Those tits strain under the hold of such a tight top. She raises her arms and proclaims, scanning the room with her purple irises, “That’s it, everyone. Another challenger thinks they are better than me, but I am the supreme sorceress here. Me, the milk mage!”
There’s grumbling among the other spell-casters in the arena. Wizened wizards and dark warlocks alike scoff at the milkmage and the callous display of her jugs.
“This used to be a respectable institution,” the eldest among them said, an old crone of a black cat. “Spell casters didn’t have to show off to show their power. Bah… if only I was younger.”
“I hear that the milk she produces makes her ritual magic far more powerful,” says a warlock. “I wonder what dark power she signed a deal with to get tits like that.” Despite his disapproval, there’s a hint of pervertedness in his voice, suggesting at least a passing interest.
The milkmage swishes around, breasts sloshing, pointing her staff over at the quarreling elders. “Magic is ever-evolving, oh old ones,” she says. “It is with the arrival of newer, better spell casters that we find improvements in our power. Sadly, you’re just too blinded by nostalgia and tradition to see it.”
Many wanted to speak up to her, but none will say a thing against her. After all, this lizard is the winner of the Wizard’s Duel, and the champion has a full say on the court of magic.
Unless, of course, there is a challenger.
“How about you shut your trap.”
The words echoed as if someone had cast a spell of silence upon the whole of the chamber. The people remained still as if that same someone also cast a spell of stillness upon the room. The milkmage turned, narrowing her eyes, but didn’t utter a word at the new challenger.
The red-scaled reptile hops from the audience chamber, dressed in leggings and tattoos etched on his scales. Despite being smaller in stature, his muscles are toned, and his golden eyes flare with determination.
“Ah, a sorcerer dares to challenge me,” she says, letting her tongue hiss out between her sharp teeth. “Tell you what,” she continues, pressing fingers upon her breast. “How about I sweeten the deal? I’ll make my milk extra sweet for you so that when you have the taste of defeat, it’ll be less sour for you.” She traces a finger around her clothed nipple, imbuing her magic into her milk.
The reptile sorcerer nods and raises his hands in a fighter’s stance. “Sounds good to me. Though, it’ll be you who tastes defeat, you cow.”
She gasps. “Such rude words. Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson myself.” She raises her arms high, and with that, a magical barrier forms up around them, keeping others from interfering with their duel.
The sorcerer rushes in, throwing punches, augmented with flame spells, at the imposing milkmage.
The mage’s eyes widen, but she backs off as a swiping claw catches onto her dress’s cleavage, ripping through the fabric and letting her tits spring free.
She growls at him. “Oh, so you’re a martial mage? The least you could do is be decent!” She stabs the ground with her staff, sending waves of white liquid through the tiles’ cracks. They shoot up, making sharp darts up in the sorcerer’s way.
He closes his eyes and dodges, weaving like a graceful dancer, from the tip of his frills to the end of his tail, he is like beauty in motion.
But Lactania is not just a boisterous powerhouse. Despite the sloshing size of her tits, she dodges his punches and kicks, a smirk upon her face. “Oh, please, do you really think you can hurt me?” she coos. “I’m the most powerful milkmage in all of the-”
She’s stopped when a flaming punch hits her square in the tit. Lactania stumbles back, the remaining parts of her dress stained dark with the expressed milk leaking against the fabric. She weaves a powerful spell that bends the milk around her, forming a shield so that her opponent cannot connect with her.
His punch strikes the wall of milk, boiling the liquid with a burning sizzle. But the heated fluid splashes down onto him, hitting him in the eyes.
He stumbles back, wiping the bubbling substances off of his face, the heat doing nothing to him.
“Ah, so your elemental resistance is high. Very good,” Lactania says. “Too bad my milk does not do elemental damage!” She swoops her arms in a magnificent motion, and a pillar of summoned milk flies forward to hit the martial mage.
He listens out for the flow of mana and liquid around him and dodges the attack, only to spin and whip his tail towards her. Lactania gasps and takes a slap to the face, sending her spinning.
A murmur rises up from the crowd. It grows louder with each hit that the challenger gives to the champion. She shakes the dizziness from her head and raises her arms up high. “Alright, you upstart. You asked for it! Cream-eteor!”
Giant spheres of white nourishment form in the sky and fall down towards the challenger. He plants his feet, staring up at it with a determined golden stare. He punches the air, sending fiery fists flying forward, striking each milky meteor and evaporating them one-by-one.
Lactania’s eye twitches. This upstart is doing much too well compared to many of the others. Where did he come from, and what is this style of magic he practices?
After striking the last attack, he throws both fists forward, shooting another blast of fire at her. She squeezes her tits, firing off a burst of milk to counter the attack, ricocheting the fireball off to the side and towards the audience.
One of the magi in the front row stands up and produces an ethereal shield. The fire strikes against it, but the flames are so hot that some bearded wizards need to pat the cinders from their facial hair.
The distraction of the audience gives the challenger a chance to rush Lactania.
Nearing her, he throws an acidic blast towards the Milkmage. A slash of creamy liquid catches his knee, ripping his pants and sending him tumbling forward.
The Milkmage tilts her neck, and the acid flies past her. “Oh, is that really the best you can do?” she asks. “How pathetic. Seems to me like you want to have a taste for everyone to see.” She chuckles from the back of her throat, stepping up towards the fallen sorcerer. “Very well, I think I’ll give you what you so desperately desire.” With her top already destroyed, she pulls down the remains of her dress.
The red sorcerer snickers and the milkmage stops, her fingers just about to squeeze for victory.
She frowns. “And just why are you laughing?”
“Returning Spell” is all the sorcerer says.
“A spell adjustment!?” The milkmage gasps, spinning around, only to be splashed in the face by the orb. She falls back, landing on her back while the burning sensation causes her mild discomfort. It stings at her scales and eyes, but he only used a low-potency splash so as not to leave any lasting damage.
But before she can blink the blurriness out of her eyes, she feels the bare foot of the reptilian sorcerer press upon her breast. He holds his hand out, palm wide, and gathering energy forms there. He smiles and says, “Do you yield…?”
“Yield?” Lactania growls. “To the likes of you? Never!”
He smirks. “Well, then, I suppose I’ll just have to make you surrender.” He lifts his foot and then crawls down to her level. His hands slide up along her sides, teasing her with the slight scratches of his claws, before he grabs tight to them, giving the milkers a firm and direct squeeze. The milk squirts out from various pores, squirting up like a fountain before landing upon his fingers and her scales.
“Look at you,” he says, squeezing one after another, letting the milk shoot up just a bit, “You’re so full of this stuff, I wonder what would happen if I were to milk it all out of you? Would you lose all of your power? Would you even be a mage anymore?”
Lactania squirms underneath him, looking away as this humiliation is applied to her. “Y… you fiend!”
Salaz hisses, “Oh, don’t you worry, Lactania. Your defeat will be totally under my hands, as I know the correct pressure points. Observe.” With that, he removes one hand, and then he thrusts forward, pressing up underneath of her tit. This causes an eruption of milk to shoot up from her. A squeal of surprise erupts from her throat, and the fluid to splash against his lips and cheeks.
He flicks his tongue over the substance, and then his golden eyes flare-up. “D… damn…”
“W… what?” Lactania asks, a frown growing on her face.
“That’s some good stuff you got there,” he admits. Suddenly, he hops down, laying on top of Lactania, hands pinning her down by the shoulders.
“Unhand me, you brute. Help, help! Council, this is highly unorthodox!”
The wizards of the front look to each other, muttering and nodding. They turn back to the fight and shrug, saying, “You’ve never been one for following standard protocol, Lactania. You’ve brought this on yourself with that sweetened milk spell of yours.”
“This is not how I want my milk to be-aah!”
The challenger rolls his long tongue out, pressing the warm and wet muscle against her exposed nipple. His tongue flicks over it, pressing down, letting milk seep out of each of her many milk ducts, and rolling down her scaled underbelly.
The challenger moans when his tongue laps up the sweet substance. He licks over and over her, painting her chest in saliva.
“Y… you barbarian! That’s… that’s my milk. That’s my source of power!
One of the younger council wizards chimes in with a sly smirk. “What he’s doing is well within the rules.” He flicks open a scroll and points to a line. “Rule 13: ‘Removal of a spell-caster’s source of power is permitted, so long as it doesn’t involve the killing or maiming of said spell-caster.’ Your source of magic is your breast milk. It may be perverted but it's fair game.” He rolls it closed as he adds in a small voice, ”…Besides, I'm liking where this is going.”
He glances up at her, golden eyes meeting purple eyes. “Your fault for making yourself taste so damn good,” he says.
“That was so I could embarrass my, aah!?”
She cannot finish what she has to say as he latches his mouth around her nipple, his snout and the subtle softness of her boob forming the seal necessary to suck on the tit. Her eyes roll back when she feels the contender drinking deep from her, pulling out the source of her magic and taking it like a sweet dessert.
His hands are not idle, either. One moves down from Lactania’s shoulder, grasping at her other breast, rolling it in his fingers, playing with it, tweaking the nipple, and overall just teasing her. Little squirts of milk shoot out, moving down over her body, covering her in a sweet and sticky exterior.
When he pulls his mouth free from one breast, he goes to the other, letting his tongue trail up along the dried milk, tasting the sweetness upon her flesh. The exquisite combination of scales and milk is such a delight, and the martial mage does not want to stop tasting any of it.
Lactania closes her eyes, her chest heaving. “Yo… You can’t… no, s-stoop…” she opens her eyes again, only to see the many eyes watching the two. They all stood there, the audience she courted and the challengers she humiliated. Many are still caked in her milk, but all are watching, cheering, applauding her defeat, and her humiliation.
Is this it? Is this how the glory of Lactania finally reaches its end…?
“P… please,” Lactania says, her purple eyes wide and watery. “I yield. You win. You are the champion, oh Salaz, the Mighty!”
Salaz pulls his mouth free from the tit, milk dribbling down his scaled chin. “Oh, I think we’re far beyond the point of basic surrender.” He squeezes both of her tits, squirting milk out and letting it drizzle down between his fingers. “All of the people you defeated and humiliated are here, Lactania. And why are they all watching with bated breath?” he leans in, his tongue slithering out, flicking at her nipples one at a time. “It’s because they want to see you get your comeuppance. They want you to beg, and they want me to not listen.”
“Y… you fiend… you animal!”
“We’re all animals, Milk Mage, you just choose to give in to your animal lusts while being under the veil of civility. I, on the other hand, am more-than-happy to indulge in mine.”
With that, he squeezes her tits together, the nipples leaking, wasting milk. But not for long, for Salaz opens his mouth wide and then shoves his face downward, shoving both nipples into his mouth. He squeezes her tits, shooting the milk up into his mouth, indulging on the sweet dairy that fills his tongue and shoots down his throat.
Cheering rises up from the crowd, and Lactania’s eyes snap to meet the various challengers she had vanquished, each of them looking at the pair with a mix of sneers and cheers. She reaches to try and cover her eyes, but Salaz is quick and swings his hips around, pinning her arms down with his tail. His tail’s extreme flexibility allows him to bend over and suck on her tits while he pins her down.
Lactania groans, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to hide from her shame, but she cannot hide from the feeling. She can feel all of her milk, all of her power, draining away, and there’s nothing at all that she can do about it.
What’s even worse is that she feels the strain of his weight against her, and the more he drinks from her magical milk, the more he pains her. Is it because she is weakened? Well, maybe, but there has to be more to it. More to the pressure she feels. The heavier he gets, the more milk leaks from her, and the more milk that leaks from her, the heavier he gets.
She doesn’t want to, but she opens her eye, just a crack. She gasps at the sight. There, as he suckles on her tits, milk shooting out of the corner of his mouth while he drinks the most of it, is the sight of his stomach growing, and growing, and growing!
“Y… you depraved maniac! N-no one should be able to take in that much of my milk! Where are you storing it? What techniques are you using?
He pulls his mouth free, tilting his head back, and gulping down the remainder of the milk in his maw. He sighs, letting go of her tits, and then he rubs his hands over his sloshing belly. “What’s the matter?” he asks, looking back down to her, patting his fattened self. “You never heard of the monks of Maw Mountain?”
There is an uproar from among the wizards and other contenders.
“Maw Mountain!?” One of the wizards exclaims, his monocle popping. “Why, that’s just a legend!”
“Not true!” Salaz says, running his hand over Lactania’s tits, massaging them, keeping them sensitive for the next step in his punishment. “The training is brutal, and most who train there walk out defeated and stuffed silly, but I am one of the mighty few who endured all their trials. And because of that, I was able to learn their greatest technique—the endless hunger!” He slaps his stomach again, watching it jiggle. “That, my dear, is exactly how I can drink so much of your creamy delight!” Salaz leans in, flicking at the nipple to tease at it before latching once more.
She’s alone in this humiliating situation. As the feeling of many eyes upon her fills her with embarrassment, another feeling wells up within her. The attention that Salaz gives her is unlike anything she has felt before. Her domineering felt good. To see others fall before her made her feel like a goddess. And yet, this complete submission to someone else feels different, but not bad. To have someone take her and milk her, it is so strange, so alluring. No, how can she say that? She betrays her power. She betrays all she’s built herself up to be. How could she let him? How can she fall so far?
The way his hands squeeze her, milk her.
The way he suckles her like a hungry child.
The passing of milk from her body to somewhere else feels so good. To know it is being appreciated feels even better than when she just squirts it out to some defeated person.
She shudders, trying to hold back any sounds coming from her throat. Lactania knows that it will be well and truly over, and she cannot, will not let that happen.
Can she?
 “N… No! Don’t! Please! Everyone has to stop him. He’ll destroy us all!”
Salaz only chuckles once more. “‘Destroy us all’? My dear, the only ‘destruction’ I have planned is your dignity... and of course, your milk supply~”
Her pleas go unanswered.
He locks his lips around her tits again, taking them in with great big slurps.
Lactania cannot help herself but groan. How in the world will she be able to recover her status? How will she be able to rescue her prestige?
The answer is simple. Lactania will not be able to recover her dignity from this. When she sees the look in his eyes—that burning triumph as he drinks more and more of her milk, she finally realizes that she has well and truly lost.
Salaz continues his relentless milking and suckling of the milkmage. He fills himself up with the delicious treat that flows from her body, emptying her of her reserves of mana-producing milk, and taking power all into himself. After a while of slurping and suckling, the sorcerer pulls his face away, sighing and wiping his chin dry with his arm. “So… satisfying,” he murrs, groaning and flopping down on the ground, arms spread wide, belly in the air. It is almost as if he is pregnant with her magic. He glows with the radiance of such a woman.
He has gotten quite full and quite round from her milk, taking in all of her magic and enjoying the feeling of completion that it gives him. Lactania, meanwhile, lays on her back as well, a great weight of milk gone from her jugs. There is a similar weight that disappears off of her. It is the weight of having to concern herself with her state as champion. She groans, pushing herself up to a seated position, staring down while the hushed voices whisper among each other. She cups her sore breasts, emptied of the magic, but still quite impressive. They’re still probably more massive than any other woman here. She’s still sexy, and her power will return to her in a few days, so why worry? She sighs and shakes her head. “I guess… I guess I’ve been defeated. Good job, Salaz.”
Salaz stumbles to his own feet, cupping his swollen belly as he roars in his accomplishment. The crowd fires off in excited glee as well as their new champion is chosen. As they sing his praises, he holds up his hand, kneeling just slightly, grabbing Lactania’s and bringing her up to a standing position as well. “I accept your position as a new champion!” he calls. “But, Lactania, while filled with vanity, is a great mage in her own right. As your champion, I humbly request that she be made to remain among us and not cast out for her mistakes, for her milk is abundant and mighty.”
The magi watching nod and agree. “Oh yes, a good idea.” They are slightly surprised at the champion’s generosity, but he has made quite an excellent point, especially after such a glorious victory.
“Of course,” he says, leaning in, whispering into her ear. “If you’re going to continue your study of Lactomancy, you’ll have to play nice. That includes sharing your milky treat with everyone whenever they desire.”
Lactania smiles a little at that, shuffling around in her embarrassment. “A… ah, yes, well, I suppose I can handle t-that.”
“Good, good,” Salaz says, taking a deep yawn before he collapses back onto the ground, dozing off in his victory. It might take a while for him to awake, but when he does, it is to a council, and a Lactania, much changed, no doubt.