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Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 01

By: xxxecil



The humans had a term that applied to women like her; no not slut. But rather she was reminded of the supposed 'Glass Ceiling' that human women groan over in the business world. If they only knew... A sharp tingling passed through her body, from the pearlescent skin of her sleek legs, to her enticingly fertile hips, and upwards to the bulbous domes of her tender breasts. It was nearly 5 o' clock, almost time for her second job, and the mere thought made her instantly horny.

For Caecyliiyanali was not like other women. She had tried her best to adapt; to be like a human woman. She even encouraged her colleagues to call her 'Cecilia'', rather than her full, elven name. She wanted a life and career like they had. But Caecyliiyanali was not human. And despite her previous illusions, she had come to the bitter realization that she would never be treated as a 'real' woman. 

Years ago, when the Celestial Conjunction occured, allowing magic to return to the Earth, she had been overjoyed. Back in Cecilia's homeland; the mystical land of Faerie, she had been of low station. Her family was the Seventh Phane of the Leanan-Sidhe, the least glorious. The least respected. But she had learned upon arrival on Earth that titles of nobility had been done away with. Here, in this modern age, people could be judged by individual achievement! To a point. Here, working as a research magician at Magi-Care clinics Inc. Cecilia's rugged individualism had come to a screeching halt.

She had always suspected the truth in the back of her mind. The humans could never fully appreciate the crazed hunger for sex that burned within the moist pussies of all creatures of Fae blood. Not surprising; since females outnumbered males on her world more than 20 to 1. But it was more than desperation; the supernatural lust that propelled Cecilia to commit lurid acts of lascivious obscenity was ingrained in the very core of her being. While human males often appreciated this facet of her, neither they not their jealous females could ever empathize with, or respect her. 

Her perfect, elegant fingers took the pins out of her red hair, allowing her lustrous mane to cascade down her lab-coat-clad shoulders like a smouldering river of sanguine seduction. It was not the red color that some humans possessed; rather a rich, crimson fire that radiated with an inner light. She brushed a few strands out of her golden, upswept eyes within her face, the features of which resembled some scarlet eagle about to take flight. In a break from her usual dress code, she pulled back her hair behind, rather than in front of her ears, so that all could plainly see the sweeping, tapering points that all elves possessed. There was no use emulating the humans; she could never join their society, not truly. 

Though Cecilia had been granted legal citizenship, including a social security number, it was all hollow to the dejected elf. The turning point seemed to be when her superiors in the company found out that she spent her evenings as a stripper at Big Al's HooterHeaven. Of course, Cecilia or any elf would have done that job for free; the vicarious pleasure of being ogled by a roomful of human males sent her into sublime heights of ecstasy. As soon as they knew, the elf was never again respected at Magi-Care. Yes, like all fae she had an instinctive talent for magic, but few creatures of fairy had either the discipline or the aptitude for business. But Cecilia had been determined to change that perception.

Three years! Three years and she never once had sex with a co-worker! Cecilia had been able to compartmentalize her life; work in the mornings, lust in the evenings. But it seemed that all her efforts had come to naught. She heard the other lab-workers whispering on occasion; apparently they were placing bets as to how much longer she could go without ripping open her blouse, and spreading her legs for her boss. They would never appreciate the effort she expended to keep from doing just that. She had practiced a series of mental exercises to diminish her fervent lust whenever a man's gaze lingered too long on her ample bosom. 

Well, it was about that time. As if in anticipation, her pussy began to throb again, for very soon she would indulge her natural fairy lusts. But why wait? She had been planning her next course of action. It was rather ironic; in all of the 7th Phane, she was probably the one elf that really was not a slut. Not really. To compound the irony, the rest of her family thought she must be sick to be able to restrain her urges as much as she did, while the humans thought her lusts made her unreliable! Cecilia had decided to go down in a blaze of glory. Give the humans what they expected; they'd never promote her; never put her in charge of any sensitive projects. Three years wasted.

She held in her hands an odd object. The golden acorn seemed to sparkle in the air, with a definite aura of magic. It had been exceedingly difficult to find; with magic re-emerging on Earth, and dying on Faerie, many wondrous creatures and objects were fading with it. Most of the Fae had fled to Earth, to build new lives, but there were those that for whatever reason could not make the journey. Cecilia had retrieved a bit of that lost magic before it faded away forever.

She cracked the shell, and a strange, clear fluid emerged. She knew what to do; she had a plan that would give the humans a renewed appreciation for all that she had sacrificed. She would at long last MAKE them understand. Before Ceacyliiyanali left her office, she plunged the golden acorn deeply into her moist cunt.

**********

It was more than mere lust. Professor Lily had awakened that morning with an anxious passion that burned in her blood and fired her mind. Her dreams had been more erotically intense than normal, and she had awakened in a cold sweat, heart pounding. On days like this, her usual response was to grasp her automated, custom built dildo and masturbate herself for over an hour. Yet, while her pussy seethed with pulse-pounding lust, there was something else going on; something happening within her that mere orgasms could not satisfy. With renewed vigor, she dressed for class.

Eyes raised with longing as she stalked into the auditorium. Her male students breathed deeply, drunk with the scent of wildflowers and honeysuckle that naturally emanated from her bronzed body. But....she wanted more! She...she didn't know exactly what she wanted, only that sex itself would not be enough. Brushing a strand of forest-green hair from her almond-shaped eyes, she launched into a lecture on microbial denitrification. Yes, she was a true slut, as most Forest Nymphs were, but her work was still important to her. But nonetheless, she often enjoyed playing games with her many male students. 

Ahh...yes...there was one...A slightly pudgy freshman nerd in the back row. He had a look of hopeless yearning etched into his youthful face, a look Lily was all too familiar with. Worse, unable to contain his overwhelming, hormonal urges, the youth had begun to masturbate himself right there in class! His desires apparently too severe to worry about his own dignity. That was what she wanted! What she exulted in!

He seemed to shrink in his seat as she walked over and stood next to him.

"Ray? Could I speak to you in the hall for a moment?" Ray squealed with terror and shame. But he would not disobey. Awash in fright, he followed her out into the hall. She firmly grasped his wrist and dragged him bodily into the nearby men's room.

"I...N...th-that is...I never..." His reddened face cringed with humiliation as he fumbled for words that would not come. Lily said nothing. She merely fixed him with a penetrating stare from her emerald-green eyes. Then she struck!

A delicate hand, as soft as a flower petal lashed out with lightning speed.....and down the boy's pants. In less than a second, she had grasped his now deflating cock in hand. Ignoring his yelps of frightened confusion, she began massaging. His shaft quickly responded with a new surge of rigidity. Her flower-soft hand kneaded and cajoled his thick meat with practiced grace. Fingernails lightly grazing his balls to provide yet greater tantalization. Pulling, tugging, squeezing the rod as Ray gasped with a quivering fit of passion. All the while, Professor Lily said nothing; merely staring at the horny human with hard eyes, eyes greener than green, so deeply luminescent as to convey her supernatural essence.

"Gh-wh-why?" he stammered. The only response was a strengthening of the grip upon his meat, fingers twirling around his throbbing rod like a satiny whirlpool of seamless stimulation. He bucked his hips against her hand, gasping with delight. Still, Ray's mind was awhirl? What did this mean? Was it some cruel, Fae trick? If so, this was the sort of joke he could readily appreciate. Was something else required of him? His confusion was now tempered by a new fear, a fear that this ecstasy might end too soon. In fact, something more was demanded of him.

With her left hand, the forest nymph propelled the human towards a lurid orgasm, but with her right, she grasped Ray's hand, and placed it squarely upon her heavy breast. The canteloupe-sized orb throbbed with an inner heat, and Ray was not surprised when he discovered that beneath her flimsy blouse there was no bra. The hardening tents caused by her swelling nipples thrust against the human's palm, as though her teats themselves were goading him towards orgasm. Ray needed no further encouragement.

With a gurgling grunt, Ray surrendured. He fell back against the wall as muscular control failed him. He released all his tension, all his fear, and all his lust. His passion jetted outwards from his cock, against the silky palm of the Fae professor, gathering up his creamy reward. There were no words. Nothing the human could say. And Lily merely continued to gaze intently at him, saying nothing. Soon, his spurting seed had been collected, and Lily raised her fingers and licked them clean. Sucking each finger while continuing that steely gaze. Then, she refastened the humans' pants, zipping him back up, before kissing him full on the lips, thrusting her tongue against the roof of his mouth.

He collapsed in shock against the wall, as she brushed her heart-shaped ass against his groin while returning to class. And Ray felt it; he felt the magic. With a throbbing surge of burning heat, his cock began to expand within his pants! He gasped as he felt his rod thrusting, pushing against the denim confines, he pulled his pants down yet again, and beheld a massive, foot-long schlong that bounced boldly into the air, already erect and nearly tripled from its previous size! Somehow, the Nymph professor had empowered his cock even as she jerked him off! But the lust was worse than before! His new, supreme cock had a full load; it was as though he had never come at all! 

"Wh-why?!" he squealed.

**********

Lily was changing, that much was certain. Somehow, someway, it was as though her mind and soul had been...opened? The forest nymph paused for a moment as her mostly male students filed out of the auditorium, seemingly disappointed that class was over. Several hands fumbled with pants, trying to conceal raging hard-ons brought about by the luscious curves of the nymph's supernaturally voluptuous body.

The Fairy creature felt warm, surges of....heat? Heat from her male students? No...something else...Her delicate brow furrowed in confusion at the strange sensations bombarding her. As a yearning, sophomore boy stared at her, lips quivering in desire, she understood. Somehow, Lily had developed a 'Sixth sense', and she was now able to detect the sexual desires of humans! How was that possible? What was happening to her? 

Compelled by instinct, she glided gracefully down the hall. Soon, she could feel the sexual auras of plant, animals, even the very microbes in the air! Her green eyes swept the stone walls in wonder at her new capacity. Behind this wall, in room 209 she could sense a warmth from two humans, male and female, one younger than the other. There were also much smaller auras....this was the microbiology laboratory, and she could sense the life of the humans within it without even seeing them! She gasped with delightful surprise as she placed her graceful, fairy fingers against the wall.

**********

"Dr. Spencer! I..It's incredible!" shouted Jennifer, holding up two petri dishes, in which several colonies of Streptococcus mutans were happily consuming their growth media. Before Jennifer's very eyes, the white splotches expanded and widened, stretching themselves across the small dish, reproducing at a rate exponentially faster than anything remotely possible. 

"What do you...wow!" breathed Dr. Spencer as he adjusted his glasses, peering over the shoulder of his graduate student. On all of their plates, the tiny microbes were multiplying their number as he watched, spreading like a stain as they devoured every last scrap of nutrient on the plates. "How...It...It must be magical contamination, that must be it!"

"Dr. Spencer, I....I'm..." Jennifer's eyes suddenly moistened with passion, as the professor looked at her...and then he really looked at her! The girl had a healthy, fit figure. Her breasts were like ripe grapefruits, and she had all the female curves that any man could ever want. Her straight brown hair was simple, but feminine. And suddenly, he found the traces of freckles on her cheeks irresistably endearing. For her part Jennifer simply melted into his arms, mind clouded by a sudden cascade of emotion, her pussy moistened by a sudden explosion of desire. There was no doubt what was about to happen.

"I'm...I'm s-sorry..."mumbled the young, overwrought professor, discarding his glasses as he gripped the grad student's shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his thin, swimmer's body, as Dr. Spencer felt the last vestiges of his control evaporating like mist. She nuzzled his ear, gasping with shock and delight into his brown, thinning hair. He had never allowed his personal urges to complicate his career.

"Don't be..." murmured the girl, as she ripped open her own T-shirt. In moments, it was as if both teacher and student had developed a sudden allergic reaction to their own clothing. Not to mention the clothing of each other. As though in rage, Jennifer's teeth tore away at her teacher's pants, while Dr. Spencer frantically yanked down her pants; exposing her ripe ass for his greedy eyes.

Tumbling together onto a laboratory bench, naked bodies entwined with uncontrollable urges. It was obvious to both that they were being magically compelled, but as they stared into each other's eyes, it was amazing how content they both were. Jennifer felt as though this sudden, sexual compulsion was more real, more valid than any of her own thoughts. Dr. Spencer's furtive lust was far stronger than career, as his wiry frame encircled the thighs of his all-to-willing student. The Lust; stronger than career, marriage, or self-preservation. Even if they had the desire to resist, they lacked the strength of will.

Jennifer squeaked with joy as that rigid cock penetrated her moist twat. It was as if the Universe itself wanted them to procreate. The young student wrapped her legs around the naked pelvis of her teacher-lover, knowing that the reason she existed was to reproduce; nothing in the world was more important than feeling hot seed spurting upwards into the deepest recesses of her female core.

Dr. Spencer himself had lost the ability to analyze the situation; his vast intellent buried by raw, animal instinct. For him, there was no universe; only the interplay between their two bodies, grinding against each other as his cock pressed deeper into the sweet terrain of womanhood splayed out luridly before it. After a brief eternity, the explosion arrived. Jennifer wailed with fear of not being impregnated, her will became focused on breeding, and she had no doubt they would be in each other's arms again; and as many times as it took. They would continue to copulate as often as possible until there was no doubt that Jennifer's body would swell with young.

**********

"I'd like to tender my resignation. Consider this my two-weeks notice." Said the elf in the dulcet tones that were customary for her. She glided with an ethereal grace into the office of Guy McCormick, the research supervisor. It was not by accident when her glossy legs and calves angled subtly towards the human as she took the liberty to occupy the adjacent chair on the other side of his desk.

Mr. McCormick paused for a moment. "Well frankly, I'm not terribly surprised. I'm....I'm not sure you really fit in here." How she loathed this human. With his smug, self-assured smile. How she loathed those beefy, broad shoulders, and that manly, spiked hair-cut. Guy McCormick was a brooding, bear of a man. Behind his calm words was a calculating ambition that made Cecilia wet with excitement. He never took her seriously, laughing and encouraging the guys when they made Faeophobic jokes and remarks. The fact that there was a lot of truth behind most such jokes only made her angrier.

"Here at Magi-Care clinics, a certain level of professionalism is...preferred. And to be honest I've been weighing this issue for some time..." Not surprising. They probably would have found an excuse to give her the pink slip by next month. A pox on this arrogant human, thought Cecilia. She suspected the rumors were true; the rumors of him and his secretary. For three years she had struggled to contain her free-spirited craving for cock, and McCormick was rumored to have a monstrous allotment of man-meat. It was the height of injustice to a fae; being forbidden to have sex with such a potent stud as this, merely because of company policies about office fraternization.

"I...understand...completely..." moaned Cecilia, whipping out her hair in a fiery flourish as she began to run her hands from her belly up towards the jutting slopes of her magical bosom. If she was going, she might as well go out with a bang. "Truth is...Mr.McCormick...you were...you were right about me..." Her eyelids fluttered; amidst her gasps of passion as her finger traced a line from her navel to the crowning peak of her left tit, until her nail was right on the outer edge of her golden aureole, braless beneath her flimsy blouse. That was another problem; maybe if she'd figured out what human women meant by that....what was it? That..bray...bree? Those lacy things....that human women put on their breasts. If she'd worn one, maybe they would have accepted her then. Oh well; water under the bridge. Cecilia knew she would never be a 'real' woman, not to them. And not to Guy McCormick. Why not give them what they want? Why not give the humans what they expect?

"W-well....regardless of your stated intentions..." His blue eyes widened in surprise. By why should he be surprised; she was just a pointy-eared slut that wasn't cut out for real research. Wasn't that it? "...There are numerous restrictions on...intimacy during office hours...within the workplace..."

"I've decided to burn my bridges behind me." declared Caecyliiyanali, as she spread her legs, allowing a tantalizing glimpse into the wet depths that churned with hunger for this arrogant, infuriating human. She allowed herself a few more cup-sizes; though she suspected it wasn't necessary to complete the seduction. As her blouse was tented by the surging press of erect nipples; Guy McCormick's attention was riveted; those perfect globes, increasingly visible through the flimsy fabric seemed to be rushing at him, closer with each second of fertile inflation, as fairy breasts enlarged right before his eyes, and hands. Suddenly, she leapt forward, swinging her slender body across his desk, thrusting her chest towards him in lurid invitation. It happened. He was touching her breasts.


Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 01



Guy had never been very impressed with the Fae before. He had always been dedicated, and deeply serious about his career. The Fae were simply so far removed from his pragmatism and ambition that they had always seemed beneath his notice. Frankly, they were rather ridiculous, with their silly demeanors, their exaggerated, waspish waist-lines, so thin that they barely had room for their internal organs. And their impossibly buoyant, melon-sized tits were from a teenager's wet dream. They were not credible, either as collegues or on a personal level. It sure hadn't been his decision to hire the elf. But that was before. Before the bulbous boobs had expanded; growing, ballooning past her elbows right into his grip. Her breasts were in the palm of his hands.

Her breasts were in the palm of his hands.

Something clicked inside Guy McCormick. His eyes widened with renewed realization. Something primal had awakened. No, the red-haired, slutty sex-pot wasn't human; but she was very, very female. Those glittering, golden eyes boring into his soul bespoke a sultry passion that made more than just his heart leap. His skin prickled as her hot breath seared his nerve endings while her face and mouth drew ever closer, close enough to begin biting off his buttons with her teeth. His hands squeezed into voluminous orbs of bosomy wonder to put a honey-dew melon to shame, even as felt her nipples hardening in his very grasp, against the flesh at the center of his palms. She was ripe; she was ready; her non-humanity suddenly mattered very little to Guy McCormick, or to his cock.

"You were right about me..." she growled again, in a deeper tone.

His pride and ego didn't seem to matter; because he was holding her breasts. In a catalytic instant, all thought of efficiency, dignity, and achievement vanished as the magical creature tore his shirt open, and in the same motion made progress towards releasing the zippers and buckles that restrained his awakened cock.

She was giddy with delight; gone was her suppressed, jealous anger at being forced by the demands of propriety to deny herself this beefy, brute of a human. She would at last have her revenge, she would at last make them understand. Before she knew it; her blouse had failed dramatically, unveiling her enchanted boobs to the eager gaze of her supervisor. The time was right; the Fae didn't come to Earth to earn money, or to run corporations, or improve profit margins. They came because their bloodline was dying. They came to mate with humans, to breed a new race from the cunts of elves like her, and the cocks of humans like him. It was a beautiful symbiosis, indeed Cecilia's current coupling was a symbol of Earth's future. Her human mate pressed down upon her nude form sprawled upon the desk. Her heart fluttered at the feel of the strength coursing through the bulky man's body that pressed down upon her tender flesh. They coupled just as the Fae race and Human race were joining. Mankind's power and ingenuity would be multiplied by the gift for magic; and the Fae would flourish immeasurably from the vigor of humanity.

A prime example of that vigor would soon be jetting mightily into the elf's moist twat, as her body was fondled, caressed, manhandled by the burly boss that was now enslaved by the tender fae-flesh, flush with an unearthly, almost pearlescent sheen as her body quivered with sensual delight beneath his surging manhood. Her feet, still clad in ruby-red high-heels made little circles of delight as her legs raised up in the air, spreading wide to accommodate the robust thrusting of the stud that pounded her naked pelvis with his manly meat. It was so easy; she hadn't even needed to use her natural mating musk; as she had prepared for. But Guy was not prepared, nor was the World prepared for what she would do next. Because she was a crazed slut desperate to breed with almost any male, they would underestimate her. That would be their undoing. It would be sweet....so sweet....

**********

"Your doing I presume?" A billowing mass of wild greenery was shoved in Lily's face, sprouting prodigiously from a plastic pot that was woefully inadequate for the healthy fern. "It was just sprouting this morning; barely a fraction of this size," grumbled professor Scarborough, an associate professor new to the forest nymph's department.

"I thought at first that the plants had been switched, then I noticed the same thing had happened to the seeds my students were cultivating for their botany assignments." Scarborough's blue eyes narrowed with annoyance; his blond hair looked frazzled and slightly unkempt, perhaps from the shock that awaited him when he entered his office.

"What has this to do with me?" asked Lily innocently, crossing her shapely legs while thrusting forth her ample bosom. She was barely listening to the young botanists' words, reveling in the awareness of his sexual aura. It was a reddish, fuzzy glow exuding from his body, and the perception seemed as real to her as anything coming out of his mouth. Like before, on an instinctive level, she new she had the power to manipulate that aura.

".....suppose I shouldn't be surprised, since they put my office next to a...a...what are you, exactly? Some sort of fertility spirit or something?"

"Or something. But as you can see, I'm very much flesh and blood." Her expression was one of bemused dismissal, for the emerald-eyed nymph saw through his anger. It was a ruse; he was pretending to be enraged to hide his own burgeoning passion; working across from the luscious nymph every day made his blood boil with desire. Only through this mock rage could he hope to suppress the fiery urges kindled within him by the swelling majesty of her fertile hips, crying out for him to fill her with his seed. He was amazed that she could tolerate wearing that painfully tight blouse, tented and tormented by the bulging press of bosomy payload within. The firm globes, easily larger than ripe cantaloupes reminded him that this was indeed no wispy spirit.

"I really don't know what happened to your ferns," she replied. She was beginning to get an idea, though it was not her conscious doing. It must be a result of these...these changes. These new abilities blossoming within her. Ordinarily, the air in her office would be thick with the fragrant scent of honeysuckle and wildflower that she naturally exuded when in close proximity to a man, but something was different; she knew that her mating musk was unnecessary, her new powers would be more than enough. 

But Scarborough was expecting it; he was wise to her tricks, and she caught his eyes drifting over the supple terrain of her bronzed legs, firm and shapely, towards those thighs that were infamous throughout the department; how many hot-blooded students had this mystical slut encircled with them? How many cocks had been captured by this impossibly endowed creature, to spew their creamy loads into that enchanted womb? He knew what to expect; he knew that most Fae could release a potent pheromone from the within the folds of their moist pussies, triggering an unprecedented explosion of the male libido. In fact, the courts were being tied up these days with cases involving men going berserk with lust in public when exposed to a strong dose of the aroma.

Lily felt his eyes fall upon the junction between her legs, beneath her scandalously short skirt, at the soft portal of blissful passion there. He was one of those humans that was afraid of his own desires; afraid of what might occur should he get too close to her fragrant slit. There was no need to ask; like most Fae, Lily never wore underwear, the better to intoxicate a potential mate. But her powers had increased; she didn't understand how or why only that....that she was in total control...she felt his libido, felt it throbbing within him like a warm, soft, dial. A dial that she could adjust up or down; at her convenience.

His blue eyes watered; his square-jaw quivered. It was happening; she was willing his sexual drive to increase with but a thought! Scarborough dropped the overgrown fern, as spasms of pure pleasure racked his body. She stared intently at him, the human was captivated by the emerald pools of warm desire that were her eyes, while stammering at the rude shock of having his mind conquered by magic.

"NNGH!...N-NOT...LIKE YOU.....I'M... A  REAL... SCIENTIST....C-CAN... CONTROL.... BASE....U-URGES...." He clenched his fists and grunted; human discipline warring with the magic of faerie. Lily pushed a little harder; feeling his mind beginning to snap like a twig underfoot. And soon; it was not only a struggle against the sexual sorcery of the forest nymph, but Scarborough was struggling against his own body; the ever-hardening part of his body that wanted to surrender to the timeless force of nature that sat cross-legged across from him.

With a wail of yearning, the battle was over. Associate Professor Scarborough collapsed into tears, and fell into Lily's outstretched arms. He buried his face in her sweet-smelling mane of forest-green hair. She grabbed his hand, and placed it against her right boob. They both sighed in pleasure as his hand kneaded the luscious titflesh. Lily smiled in satisfaction; she was honored to be the Fae able to relieve Scarborough of his discipline and professionalism.

"You're a very intelligent, competent man, Scarborough. And I want you to feel something;" his one free hand was removed, and thrust under her skirt. His hand glided up her perfectly smooth, silky inner thigh, savoring the tactile journey along the way to the core of her womanhood. "My pussy is becoming uncomfortably wet; and I've chosen you as my next mate. I want your genes, Scarborough. And I want the feel of your cum spurting inside me. You're going to be the father of my next child, your seed is mine."

But it was too late; too much too soon; Lily had miscalculated. The young botanist, his natural libido multiplied beyond all reason, was lost in the throes of passion. Like an electric shock, the explosion occurred when the tip of his finger finally contacted the naked folds of the nymph's dripping cunt. He jerked violently in her arms, gurgling as he came. His sperm jetted into his still-closed pants, his potential wasted inside fabric. Still, the violent power of his orgasm overcame his mind, and he passed out, slumbering peacefully as Lily dragged him regretfully back to his office. It seems she didn't know her own strength: By pushing a man's libido too hard, he would soon be of no use to her. She would have to learn restraint in the use of these new, unexplained powers.

**********

The Conjunction had brought with it many wonders; Cecilia knew. The baffling contrivances of technology astounded the Fae; while the whimsical sorcery of Faerie constantly put humans on edge. The combination had produced truly awesome wonders, which the Elf reflected upon as she strode across the marble tiles of the highway rest-stop. The lurid act of promiscuity she was about to commit was less unthinkable now than it would have been in the 20th century. And with any luck; the 21st century would end very, very differently than what most humans probably guessed. Nonplussed by the confining strictures of human decency, she calmly stepped into the Men's room.

There was no preamble, no foreplay. Ceciliiyanali decided...no, she knew that such ploys were unnecessary. Because she could feel the changes brewing inside her even now, she could feel the magic working, in her blood, in her breasts, in her pussy. The grizzled, bearded truck-driver sputtered in shock as he saw her enter. 

"Gh-uhm, excuse me miss, I..." But then he noticed the pointed, upswept ears, the lava-red hair gracing her slender shoulders, her sharply elegant face, her smooth skin glimmering like oiled alabaster. And her breasts; fleshy mounds of fertile bounty, scarcely concealed within an over-taxed blouse that had lost most of its buttons from straining to hold these buxom bowling balls.

"Oh...a fae. Listen sweety; I know you've got no regard fer human notions of decency, but it's just easier if you use the Little girl's room." He said smiling, revealing a gold tooth. She gazed at him, her golden eyes riveting his blue ones.

"Breast." she declared simply. Vague though her statement was, it was clearly a command. The Trucker sputtered again, his face flushed, and he quivered at the sink as though struck by lightning. It was difficult to describe what occurred next. It was as though the human's mind was...well....cancelled. With a throaty roar, the beefy, bearded trucker leapt upon the lithesome Fae, tearing the remnants of her blouse asunder yet again that day, all the better to nuzzle those perfect boobs. He wept with joy as he began to lather her glorious globes with a wet combination of kisses and feral slurps. Cecilia shrieked with every touch upon her ripe, golden nipples and aureoles. 

It had worked! Better than she dared hope! Only the strongest, oldest of the Fae could create the Lure. The magical ability to overwhelm a human mind with passion was something Cecilia never imagined she would be capable of! Almost no elves from the Seventh Phane had that ability! But she did. And she could feel the magic growing within her! That Ancient, forbidden power, the power not meant for this Earth had taken root in her cunt!

And for most Fae, the greatest wonder was the sublime bliss of human cock. So many males; so virile, so eternally lustful. Most Fae were as much enslaved by their lust for human men as this man was a victim of her magic. The humans themselves however, were interested in more practical concerns. And there was a reason why acts of promiscuity of this sort were not so rare anymore...The fiery-haired elf grunted with feral delight as she felt the tantalizing touch of a hardened male member caressing her silken flesh. And that brought to mind the most fundamental difference in her life, between now and the old, 20th century.

Now, it was safe for a woman to find a truck-stop, or rest-stop and allow her pussy to be reamed by strange men from all across the country. Gone were the old diseases; scientists quickly discovered new lines of drugs that combined chemistry and magic. These days, infections that had tormented humanity for eons were attacked by curses, hexes, and magical, curative spirits. That, combined with the drugs humans had been churning out for decades spelled doom for viruses and bacteria everywhere. Every week or two, the radio announced that some old illness had been eradicated. But that was about to change. Soon, men and women alike would be afraid once more to spread their legs for complete strangers; but by then it would be too late.

"Hey Jimbo, how much longer are you...you....." the human opened the door from the outside, his words shockingly interrupted by the encounter of obscene bliss before him. His backwards ball-cap almost fell off his head, as his eyes widened.

"Ass." Came the command, spoken from those perfect, ruby lips, as the human was captivated by those golden eyes of bottomless desire. And suddenly, there was no career; no wife; no big-rig to drive; there were not 2.5 kids awaiting his return home. There was only this slutty, gorgeous elf, barely clad in the tattered remnants of a cum-stained business dress. Even Jimbo, grinding his way to slippery joy within that enchanted pussy was invisible. Only the perfect swell of impossibly voluptuous Fae ass existed. Twin slopes of bulging perfection, pristine as new snow; about to bury his mind in an erotic avalanche of libidinous frenzy.

Cecilia was more committed now than ever; how could the hollow notions of office professionalism possibly compare to the pinnacle of lustful glory that she had now reached? Never again would she resist the urge to seduce a male based on stupid loyalty to these incomprehensible notions of sexual restraint! But there were no words...only lurid slurps as twin cocks pounded the elf from both ends. The second human, with the ball-cap, was more muscular than the first, but also a bit hairier. How she wailed as she pressed herself against the firm muscle of her new mate; as his shaft penetrated her from behind. The two humans struggled against the interference each created by the other's penetration, for Cecilia, she was sandwiched by pure pleasure. As she raised her eyes to the ceiling, a close observer might have noticed that her eyes seemed to flash with a eerie, greenish glow, amidst her musical laughter.

"Give...SCHLUNK...Give me your lust...SKLURK Your maleness....give me...SHLIK"

"Feed me...:"

*********

"Apotheosis!"

"Gesundheit!" said professor Lily, motherly concern washing over her unnaturally elegant face.

"No, no! It be a word..." stammered the leprechaun, as he began gesturing through the air. "Well, it means ta become a god, er in yer case, goddess." Lily frowned, and cocked her head curiously. "Surely Lily, ye remembers meetin' the Ancient gods?" Her eyes widened.

"But...that hasn't happened in...thousands of years!" she exclaimed, while stroking the jutting slopes of her fleshy bosom, the breasts of a goddess?

"Now be the time fer new beginnings! When the legends and powers of olden times return!" Professor Shaemus, leprechaun professor of Applied Thaumaturgy dangled a sparkling, red gem from a chain in front of Lily's grandiose bust. The gem flared with shimmering motes of multi-colored light. The leprechaun smiled knowingly, then nodded. "Tell me Lily, since ye came ta Earth, how many times have ye seduced one o' yer horny human students, allowin' him ta blow his load inside yer pussy?"

"You of all people should understand! I'm a forest nymph; the living embodiment of natural fertility! I have a primal need...not just for sex, but for breeding! I MUST mate with humans and bear their young! It's my nature!" In her indignant desperation, she absentmindedly caressed her crotch, in memory of a legion of human studs.

"Ye don't need ta get all huffy with me, Ah got human females swellin' with me seed from San-Fran to Dublin. All Fae know the need ta repopulate the Faerie races, but ye've been a wee bit more successful than most." Indeed, professor Shaemus' dark suit scarcely concealed a lurking, hungry cock, straining with deliberate intent against the confines of fabric. Even under clothing, it was plain to the nymph that the leprechaun's member was nearly a third of his diminutive height! How many women had fallen prey to his sorcery? How many hapless humans had emerged from a spell-induced haze to find their pussies seeded by the randy little sprite? How many of them had been spoiled for all other men?

Leprechauns as a whole were few, exceptionally rare during the early days of the Conjunction, even more so than Satyrs. But if all the Leprechauns were as successful as Shaemus, their bloodlines would be more than secure for decades to come. But these days, fae of the opposite sex tended to separate; too much interbreeding back in faerie was one of their problems, the key to survival was to freshen up the gene pool with humans. Lots of humans.

"How many...how many human studs..." Lily pondered, her gaze wondering as she mumbled to herself, beginning to count on her hands all the times she'd been impregnated and given birth. Then calculating in her head...then taking out a notepad and making tally marks....then drawing a multiplication table....Fae children were notoriously independent; their magical powers ensured that they were nowhere near as helpless as human infants, plus the adoption demand. All over the world, people recognized that the Fae and their magic would shape the future, and adoption agencies worldwide boomed like never before, especially in countries that had not received large migrations of Fae during the early days of the Conjunction. There were enough infertile couples, in a variety of nations, that would eagerly accept Lily's magical spawn as fast as she could squeeze them out from between her firm thighs.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 01



"And ye become more fertile each time ye get knocked up, like all nymphs..." Shaemus mused, more to himself, as Lily nodded. "Aye, it be clear ta me now." The pint-sized professor's eyes widened as he began to expound; "Sometimes....fer reasons no one yet understands...there be people, Fae and human alike that suddenly become...sources of magic." Lily nodded, listening intently. She realized she should know this, but magic was never her specialty, though everyone told her she had talent.

"When the stars be in the right alignment, magic grows stronger, and most folk can use the natural magic of the universe, but...some people don't just use magic...they create it themselves; it comes from their very souls, not the stars or the moons. When ye becomes a source fer magic; even an untrained user becomes mightier than a host o' master magicians! Spells ye never imagined possible become easy as breathin'! In Ancient days, folk that churned out their own magic became the old gods of legend. Folk would worship 'em down through the centuries. But the power never lasts! No one is a source o' magic forever; ye might have the power for centuries, years, even a few weeks. And ye Lily..." he began waving a meaty finger at her. "The tests tell me that ye've become the new goddess of Fertility! So many young studs have knocked ye up, that ye've begun to radiate the magic of mating and breeding." Lily gasped with wonder at the implications. Her emerald eyes grew misty. "Ah'd advise ye to find some way ta make good use o' yer gift. Fertilizin' plants and germs is beneath ye; find a way ta make best use of the power while ye still have it! I'll give ye some time ta think about how to reach the most lives, how ta use the power of infinite fertility ta greatest benefit!" 

Just then, the pair heard some students in the hallway. She recognized them; Elessilyndrael of the Seventh-Phane of the Leanan-Sidhe, and Corona, Unicorn of the Elysian Fields. The latter used her natural, shape-shifting magic to remain in the form of a humanoid girl with pert lips, puffy blond hair, melon-sized tits, and golden hooves where her feet should be. The former was an elf of a lesser House, but Lily had to remind herself that Earthlings had done away with titles of nobility; so she would have to judge the girl by her pearlescent skin with rainbow highlights, wide birthing hips to rival her own, and alabaster towers for legs that seemed to go on forever. Otherwise she was a mediocre student. 

"....indeed Cori, after you talk to Professor Lily, I will describe every thrust of his cock..."

"Thanks Ellie, So we'll be seeing you at Panama City for Spring Break?"

"Count on it."

**********

He had a name once; but it was difficult to remember; and it no longer seemed to matter; here in the soft, velvety darkness. What did matter was that he heard her coming, at long last. His body shuddered as his cock twitched half in anticipation and relief. More than the fae girl, it was the lust that was his constant companion. Fiery, aching lust of such blood-boiling intensity that it was often painful. But he found that it also felt...liberating to be filled with such passion, if for no other reason than the ecstasy of relief. The top of his carrying case popped open; the Fae girl had custom built to contain him, and his ever-present lust. He didn't mind the flood of light that temporarily stung his eyes, because he knew what was coming next.

"It's true! But it's almost cruel to keep guys shrunk down like that!" whined the newcomer. This was not his Fae mistress, and the center of his new existence. This girl had a cute bob of blond hair framing a soft, kewpie-doll face, with lips like squashed strawberries. Above her wide, golden eyes was a strange....birthmark? A patch of skin with a golden coloring...it was shaped almost like a..a...sunburst? Well, it wouldn't be the first time his Fae mistress had shared him, though it was truly her cunt that he preferred. Even though she was the one who captured him, his body ached for her with a frightening passion.

"Cruel? Hey T-dog, you wanna go back to school and get out of here?" asked his mistress, a coy smile upturning her sultry lips.

That was the question; a part of him hated having his freedom taken away, but he'd never imagined sex could be this good. But what kept him here was not the Fae girl's formidable magic, but rather his own fear, that nothing he would ever see or experience in the future would compare to the mind-blowing ecstasy that washed through him when he was allowed into the Fae's pussy. The eyes of the visitor widened, (as usual) when the Fae girl took him from his carrying case. But more than her magic, more than his fear, it was his own cock that ruled him now.

"Like I said, we pixies are masters of size-altering magic," said his mistress, peering mischeviously over her sunglasses, while holding T-dog aloft by his 10-inch cock. The worst part of course, was not being able to jack-off anymore. Since the day that Lisa's dildo spell had shrunken him down to six inches tall, while leaving his dick the normal size, he could scarcely get his arms around the huge member anymore. "I shrunk him down to a convenient, carrying size, but his cock only gets larger the longer he's under my spell." The pixie giggled, staring at him from her full, human-sized stature. "Who says the pixie has to always be pint-sized?" The other girl, the blond with the weird tattoo began to realize the potential.

"You've got total control over the relationship..." she said wistfully. Lisa, pants already removed slunk down into a sumptuous reclining chair, legs splayed wide, the pungent odor of fae rut wafted through T-dog's senses, through what was left of his mind. The overgrown pixie girl held her stud by his ever-erect cock, using it as a handle while she positioned him. He couldn't remember the last time his cock had ever gone soft. Somehow, the Fae's dildo spell magnified his libido several times over.

"Hey T-dog? What about it?" asked Lisa. But he couldn't answer; he didn't know if the Fae would release him if he asked to be free, but right now he must struggle against his own desires, his own yearning for the paradise of her slippery slit. He wanted to stay more than he wanted his own freedom. He could do nothing but grunt, flailing his shrunken legs as he quivered with carnal desire. "Oh well..." conceded the pixie, as she shrugged off her T-shirt, buoyant boobs bobbing free, jiggling in the cool, motel air with all the supernatural voluptuousness that made the Fae reviled and desired with equal measure. She stretched her arms, and the small, diaphanous wings folded free from her shoulder blades. The crystalline wings appeared as delicate as polished soap bubbles, yet through some gravity-defying sorcery could carry the pixie-girl aloft in hovering flight when needed. 

Above her brow, whisper-thin antennae clear as glass shimmered a bit as she shook out her naturally hot-pink hair. Legs spread wide, ripe globes of pure tit jiggling in the air, she pushed her sextoy ever closer to the sacred junction between her thighs. With a throaty groan, the blond swept her hands downwards from her ripe hips to the defiant peaks of her own bosom, pinching her nipples as they reflexively hardened in passion. T-dog heaved his massive member across the chair seat, beckoned into bliss by the silken terrain of sensual enticement spreading its legs before him.

"I don't have to worry about whether or not he wants a commitment." moaned the pixie, as her ruby lips furled in a sinister smile. "I don't have to worry about human feelings." The blond fae began fingering her own slit in desire as her pixie friend reveled in her victory. "I get the cock I need, with none of the melodrama of the human condition." She tittered musically. But T-dog could barely hear her; his mouth opened wide as he stood in triumphant anticipation of the ecstasy awaiting him. Though magically shrunk, both Fae could see that his physique was powerfully developed; beefy muscles surged beneath his black skin, he was a true champion on the court, where girls both Fae and human alike swooned before his mighty stature and the winning smile splayed across the face below his shaven head. While he was popular in the court, he was an exemplary sex-toy, responding with more power and vigor than his pixie captor had thought possible. 

As T-dog plunged within the moistening corridor of womanly lust splaying blossom-like before his magical member, it was quite simply, like coming home. The living dildo put his back and shoulder into each thrust, as if both of them feared that each rutting push might be the last. Though Lisa was no expert on Earthling law, she was dimly aware that abducting a star athlete and using magic to transform him into an ever-horny sex-toy would be frowned upon by the authorities. Any moment, the door to the hotel room could burst open, magic-resistant police could swarm the room and end the glorious fun.

It wasn't that T-dog didn't miss his old life, but the unnatural extremes of pleasure, desire, and release he experienced as a living dildo for an impossibly over-sexed pixie slut was something few humans would have the willpower to resist. He still didn't know if she would release him if asked, all he knew was the blood-burning intoxication from inhaling the sweet musk her lusty snatch exuded, the mind-numbing frenzy of sensation as his out-sized cock burrowed into that sanctum of slippery wonder. SCLUK SLUNK

The lurid mating was interspersed only with the passioned grunts, equally obscene as the mechanical noises of enchanted cock within fae pussy. T-dog stepped up within the valley created by her angled thighs, positioning himself to thrust directly against her pelvis with the muscles in his legs, while his hands grasped her hooded clit for purchase. She responded with a sharp, animal howl. Glassy, pixie wings fluttered rapidly in stunned delight from his ministrations. Her translucent antennae furled and twisted rapidly, mirroring the frantic lust that burned within fae flesh.

When you've been transformed into a glorified dildo, the smaller things in life tend to matter more. Like being able to shoot your seed into a willing cunt. That was why T-dog was horrified when Lisa's other hand picked him up, removing him from the wet sheath he loved as much as his own cock. Up...up she carried him, past the navel ring within the slopes of her belly, recently swollen with young sired by human lovers. Past the rising towers of titflesh, standing proudly before his reduced perspective like fertile rotunda domes commanding both respect and lust. His still-raging cock brushed tantalizingly upon the rubbery, golden nipples crowning the buoyant mountains of femininity, those mountains that he loved to tease with his disproportionate manhood.

"Your turn." stated the pixie simply, as the blond fae's eyes widened in delight.

This was why T-dog would most likely never ask to be transformed back to his old self. This was why he began to hope the police never figured out who abducted him. The experiences that bombarded him as the recipient of Lisa's dildo spell were forbidden pleasures that man was never meant to savor. As the pixie wrapped her fingers gently around his upper body, he grunted in triumph as she thrust, over and over into the willing snatch of the strange fae with the blond tail above her pert ass. Lisa was reaming her friend doggy-style, and their mutual howls filled the air. It was ultimate helplessness combined with ultimate virility, magnifying T-dog's illicit delight. It would not be long now....ahh...there it was.... Many times, T-dog never remembered his own climaxes; something about having a dick longer than the heigth of your own body tended to overwhelm the senses. Before blacking out, his last memory was the spurting pussy-juice of the blond fae, spouting from an eager slit, splashing him in the face. This was home now; home inside a fertile, squirting cunt, bathing him in the nectar of the gods.

**********

"How do I look?" asked Professor Lily simply, as she stood in the doorway of the girl's motel room. The well-educated nymph had exchanged her lime-green business dress for a gauzy bikini top, sunglasses and a emerald green sarong wrapped casually around her supernaturally fertile thighs. The rest of her bronzed skin was left exposed, free of any spot or blemish. The forest nymph smiled coyly at the girls; she had been on Earth long enough to know that it was practically unheard of for a college professor to attend Spring Break, much less traveling there in the company of students! But Lily hated the confining strictures of professionalism that human law imposed upon her. 

"Hah! If Dean Chaumers could see you now...." began Lisa, raising her nude body off the covers.

"He did; before we left. But I made him cum so much that he passed out." No one doubted the veracity of her claim. "Smile, kids! We're in Panama City; a week of debauchery! All the cum we can swallow! I'm going to test out some spells on that cute guy cleaning the pool!" It was hard indeed to believe that this mischevious, giggling nymph was actually a tenured professor. Both Lisa and Cori noticed that for some reason, the potted plant in the motel hallway behind Lily was nearly three time its previous size after the nymph left.

"She's right, what troubles you Lisa? asked the perky, wide-eyed unicorn-girl. But Lissaeluriel gazed with forlorn eyes at the night sea revealed beyond the window.

"It's...It's the humans..." the pixie began, her eyes downcast.

"Aren't their cocks sublime?" tittered the transformed unicorn.

"Not the men, the women. Human women. Honestly, they frighten me. I'm afraid one of them will spoil this for us." Cori's face crinkled. 

"I think I know what you mean..." began the blond fae. Lisa's antennae curled and tightened into hard knobs above her brow, a sure sign of the pixie's distress, as she spoke, almost to herself.

"They...I....I just can't help it. The human women will hate me no matter how friendly I try to be. We crave sex constantly, we never get pimples, and we only gain weight in our tits. Most times....I can almost smell the jealousy. Then, they say we steal their boyfriends. All I do is what comes naturally." said the pixie, innocently.

"And the men flock to you of their own will." put in Cori, well aware of their mutual plight. "And you likely feel it to be just a matter of time before the human women react." Lisa's soft wings beat lazily through the air, casting elegant shadows upon the perfect skin of her ripe ass, right above the juncture to her naked crotch. She sighed.

"I see these human women, and I know how angry they are at me, just because of my tits, and my figure. And I know what happens next; they'll start plotting, and scheming, becoming furiously angry, then they'll invent some humiliating plan for revenge, and end up embarrasing herself as much as me. I can see it in their eyes; when they're about to do it."

"And you do not know what can be done about it." Stated the blond unicorn. "You cannot fight against the masses of human females that loathe your perfect bosom, and the curves of your hips. And you have no solution in mind." Lisa turned to the bosomy, petite fae reclining in naked bliss across from her.

"you don't seem worried, what's your solution?"

"Orgasms." replied the unicorn.

"As in...." but before Lisa could express her question, the unicorn was upon her. The pixie managed a strangled yelp as she was unceremoniously tackled and pinned. Corona, Unicorn of the Elysian Fields wasted no time burying her face into the well-used pussy of her pixie traveling companion, wrapping her arms around the pixie's thighs, while pinning Lisa's arms and chest beneath her own legs. Lisa sputtered, as delicate strands of the shapeshifter's blond tail draped over her face. It was then that the violation began.

Pummeling jolts of electric pleasure ravished the pixie's nervous system, and she gasped at the expert caresses wrought by the unicorn-girl's tongue, that agile tongue, as it invaded her womanly sanctum. The moist, dextrous appendage kindled the flames of ecstasy with each touch; a singular Flame of raw desire. With each lurid lick, the Flame of passion rose higher, ever higher. The slurping unicorn knew just where to lick, just where to thrust, that the urge building in the pixie's cunt built upon itself with every passing second.

It had all happened to fast; the unicorn-girl had subdued her with the speed; the efficient dexterity of a martial-arts master. Clearly, this was a well-practiced maneuver. 

SLPURP

SHLUPP; The Noisy tongue thrashed within womanly folds, while small teeth knew exactly when and where to nibble at that erect, pixie clit, engorged with passion. The Unicorn fell to her task with amazing, precise discipline, and Lisa could feel herself growing more helpless with every passing second. The waves wracked her; waves of obscene stimulation, waves of mind-blasting bliss. Towards the end, Lisa barely had enough control over her own muscles to unleash one last, rattling moan. 

"I used....to do this...." panted the Unicorn, lips disengaging with a noticeable pop from the splayed lips of the wet pixie cunt. "To....m-my roommate....then....other girls....humans...sometimes...I must chase them....attack them....when I know they mean me harm. This...this stops them. Enough orgasms; and they will stop their scheming. Enough orgasms, calms them. I think..." she paused, cocking her blond head quizzically. "I think my magic somehow....'rubs off' on them. I can see the change; the change in a human girl's eyes; as my magic changes her into a slut. It can be done; they may be transformed into every bit the horny bitches that we are!"

Lisa giggled. "That was...oh man...g-great...girlfriend. pant, pant We pixies....have a secret pant." Something...we don't...talk about much...but I...I think...you've earned it!" gasped the pixie; gossamer antennae curling amidst her hot-pink hair. The blond unicorn raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Lisa did not explain, she merely rubbed her graceful fingers across one of her glassy antennae, sparkling motes of light winked in the air as she pulled and tugged at her magical appendage.

"What does-" but before Cori could phrase her question, soft fingers plunged into the unicorn-girl's cunt. "YH-EH? Wh-what?"

Lisa rose; sitting up as her buoyant boobs jiggled. With a wry smile she wiggled her slender antennae. Brilliant motes of sparkling light appeared in the air, around Lisa's head, and nearby Cori's pussy.

The Unicorn in human shape could not even scream.

A molten burst of frenzied lust exploded into her womb. It was an overwhelming, unnatural eroticism. Like strapping a jet-engine on a car; too much, too fast, more power, more intensity than she was designed for. More sensation that her body could process. As the jolts pummeled her nervous system, it was all she could do to shake and thrash like a naked, bosomy, rag-doll.

"Pixie-dust." Lisa explained. "It has many, many properties. We try not to tell the humans about it; most of the time. It lets a pixie...project her magic. I can cast spells on anyone, anywhere if they've got pixie-dust on them. My powers are multiplied." But Cori could not absorb this fascinating revelation, thinking about anything right now was like trying to light a fire underwater. The experience, the pleasure, the lust was too intense to be natural, Cori's body and mind struggled to respond. Hips thrusting, pussy contracting, she fell off the bed in the flailing ecstasy clutching her mind in velvety talons. Her throbbing cunt spewed female ejaculate, as her body hastily completed multiple orgasms, all the while accompanied by Lisa's giggling.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 01



There was only one way to respond; confronted with such awesome, pussy-pulsing yearning, the only possible response was frenzied rut. "M-Man....Must....Mate!.." That was all she could muster; the most coherent thought that could pass through the confining rigidity of non-negotiable, unreasonable rut.

"Enjoy!" called out Lisa as Cori lurched out of the hotel-room, female juices drooling from her splayed, naked cunt. A glowering frenzy in her eyes, she would go forth and mate with the first man that crossed her path.

**********

She had been spending a lot of time in bathrooms lately; quite a bit. They were ubiquitous, allowed some privacy, proving to be her favorite place to entice humans into sexual acts. This bathroom was especially appropriate, for it was placed in a restaurant. Perfect, to suit her own, unique hunger.

Caecyliiyanali thrust her bosom out boldly as she stalked into the Ladies Room. By now, her uninhibited disregard for modesty, propriety, and decency was readily apparent. Quaking bosoms strained against the shredded remnants of what might have once been a woman's business dress. Sleek legs sashayed beneath a dress still bearing wrinkled palm-prints of innumerable, grasping lovers; evidence of a parade of pawing hands heralding the successive invasion of cock after spurting cock.

Even from the corner of her eye, Viviana could not help but notice the patchwork of suspicious stains upon that dress. "Madre Dios, is that CUM on her dress?" the hispanic woman wondered quietly while primping in the mirror as the elf entered. She couldn't help but angle and stare at the lurid fae. "It WAS! Her dress was covered with...with...dozens of what could only be cum stains! And...worse... the woman, (If Fae could be considered real women) was hugely pregnant! The striations that tortured stained blouse and dress were caused by the vast swell of a hefty womb, well into the third trimester with the crop of illicit young fathered upon her by the sperm of human males. Everyone knew they were sluts, but this is too much; children might see her in public like this. Still, Viviana might have been willing to leave well enough alone and mind her own business; Daniel, her date was waiting after all, but...now the elf woman was coming up to her?!

The elf's eyes were golden, and they seemed to have a curious intensity, a savage craving incompatible with the strictures of civilization. Viviana brushed her hair nervously as the fae's gaze ran up and down her body.

"Raven-black hair. Well styled." remarked the crazed elf, appraising Viviana. She placed a delicate hand upon her engorged womb as she circled the human, her gait reduced to a near waddle from the swollen weight of her ripened belly. 

"M-may I help you?" asked the Latina, not quite succeeding at masking the displeasure she felt.

"Nice, full lips. A healthy, coppery skin tone. And your breasts; nearly grapefruit size. Very impressive for a human." This was getting a bit much! Viviana stopped combing and turned towards the pregnant fae. Cecilia responded by grasping her buttocks! And rubbing! "Wide, birthing hips. Excellent; you will make an ideal vessel." the elf said plainly.

"Now look here sister! I don't care what kind of fairy -"

"LUST" boomed Cecilia, interrupting the human, her eyes suddenly flashing a brilliant, radiant green. Viviana's words caught in her throat, and her hand seemed to be caught under her skirt, inside her cunt. Cecilia chuckled; many humans were afraid of the oldest, most powerful Fae. There were rumors about Fae forcing people to commit bizarre, indecent acts they would never, ever contemplate otherwise. But the humans didn't understand how the magic works; they didn't understand the Lure. But Viviana did, now at least.

The busty Latina gasped in shock; surprised by the rude sensation of feeling all her standards, inhibitions, and modesty melt away. Suddenly, there was no reason not to do whatever the Fae said. That was how the magic worked; there was no compulsion, no 'force' involved. The raw, primal magic of faerie simply stripped humans of the laws, constraints, opinions, and inhibitions that they imprisoned their minds with. Without them, all that was left was to do what the Fae suggested.

"Into the stall." Commanded the elf. Viviana felt herself obeying, without understanding why. Or why not, for that matter. Cecilia was committed by now; she had completely freed herself from the hypocrisy of human civilization. So many years, and she had not indulged in the joy of breeding; years ago she would have avoided allowing herself to become hugely impregnated as now. But it was in her nature to mate freely with healthy males; like that of all Fae! And the humans! Their men craved her supernaturally idealized figure! They craved her massive breasts, they yearned to pump their seed into the inner sanctum of her womanhood. Yet they did not respect women that bedded different men every day! They did not respect sluts! 

No more; as Cecilia pushed the human woman up against the wall, she resolved that their would be no more pandering to the irrational stupidity of human civilization. Instinct was paramount; her own instinct was to allow herself to be impregnated, and she would use magic to free humans from the shackles of law and order they had wrapped around themselves. She would have her revenge; she now had the power to fight back. To the casual observer, she was pregnant with multiple offspring, but in truth she had not yet begun. 

The elf pushed up her ruined dress, revealing the naked grandeur of Fae pussy, but there was more. A tiny, golden blossom somehow appeared from inside her female folds. Followed by a green vine, that widened into a thick shaft as the writhing tendril left her cunt.Viviana wanted to resist, she wanted to-

"SUCK" proclaimed the elf, as she tore open her blouse, revealing the ripe splendour of naked, buoyant mammaries, swollen by pregnancy into quavering globes of basketball size wresting upon the burgeoning swell of her pregnancy. Golden nipples stood erect, as white droplets began to gather. It was not necessary for the human to suckle her breastmilk. The power of the Lure was enough to subdue her prey; but this would only make her victory more complete. She howled in wild passion as the Latina's lips closed around a golden nipple, teasing and tugging as the warm product, her silky smooth lactation, streamed forth in ivory jets down the human's throat.

But the worst was yet to come. As Cecilia snarled with feral delight at the joy of nursing, the thickening vine, the writhing green tendril, reached out from her cunt, thrusting upwards through panties and inside the hispanic pussy before it! Viviana disengaged from the nipple in shock as she felt herself penetrated. The orgasms where necessary, vital if the spores were to take root inside the human's cunt. For her part, any resistance the human might have been able to muster no longer mattered; the unnatural pleasures bombarding her were more valuable, more compelling than personal dignity. 

The impossible object was knobby and smooth, yet hot in a way that a plant should not be. It tingled and twisted within the drooling portal surrounding it..then...AAAAH Release! One of the knobs, a small, round object dislodged, and slipped deeper...deeper into her womb...then another...and another! Her pussy had become the universe, all that mattered or that she could perceive, as the fiery needles of forbidden delight speared her with unimagined ecstasy.

"Nehahah...hahahah...." the laughter had come from the human, from Viviana.

Cecilia's revenge would be sweet indeed.

END PART ONE



Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 02



"Are my tits big enough?" she asked, with a concerned jiggle.

"We both know it's not that simple, Marina." The human girl said, as she strolled into the bathroom of the small motel-room, barely clad in a pink, string bikini. We've come a long way, but in competitions like these, the days right before the contest can be the most crucial for preparation." explained the tanned, tall human matter-of-factly.

"I know, I know." The 'girl' in the bathroom was closely examining her enormous mammaries with a tracing finger and critical eye as she reclined amidst the soapy comfort of the bathtub. From beneath the suds, a silvery tail that shimmered silver poked through, fish-fin the size of a frisbee flopping lazily in the bathroom air. Above her, the flashing panoply of light from a small, wall-mounted T.V. set conveyed lurid images of day-time, talk-show hijinks. That was something Marina had insisted upon; the bathroom *must* have a T.V. Her silvery, piscine tail swayed hypnotically in the air; a sure sign of her anxiety. Which was why she was in the tub, really. Marina, like most mermaids needed to be in water to truly relax, and on the eve of what awaited the pair, relaxation was in short supply. 

"How's your sensitivity?" the human asked, her auburn hair in a tight bun as she leaned over, genuinely concerned about her fae friend. There was only one way to answer that question. From below Mariana's clavicle, the sweep began. Jutting breasts of prodigious size blossomed forth upon the mermaid's chest; gazing down from her perspective, the thrust of boob shot forward 12 inches, a little more than a foot long in length of the tenderest flesh. Her delicate finger traced a journey from the shadowy cleft in the center, through a gob of soap bubbles, onto the beginnings of the sharp slope of mammary. The finger's journey brought it the full length of a new pencil around the bulging heft to the side, and below the warm, wet boob. And by then, past the juncture between her arm and torso, her touch had still not yet reached the front of the slope, the pinnacle of the rosy-tipped mountain of femininity, one of a perfect pair. It took...well, almost the length of another pencil before her scraping finger, encountering no noticeable friction, reached the proud nub of pink flesh adorning her bulbous breasts.

She blew, a quick gust of cool air. Her aureoles seemed to widen and stretch, and her pert nipples swelled up, rising to attention. The nubs almost doubling in length, hardening with prickles of sensation. The Mermaid shook her head, brushing a strand of silvery-white hair away from her luminous, blue eyes.

"Only double their natural size!" she wailed.

"Hey, hey, don't talk like that!" chastised the human, donning a pair of plastic sunglasses. "You know it's all about attitude!"

"You're right Violet, what would I ever do without you?" asked Marina, smiling.

"You'd drop out of school, spend all your time screwing surfers while listening to Rap music." Violet said, as if she were discussing the weather. Marina giggled.

"Guilty as charged; I guess you know me too well." The human strapped on a pair of black, plastic boots with wheeled inlines. 

"I'm gonna go rollerblading to blow off some steam. Wanna come?"

"Nah, I'll just chill for awhile."

"Have fun!" And with that, the human was off. Even with her back facing Marina, It was plain that Violet was not like other girls. From afar, it seemed that she must be wearing a backpack hanging over her chest. Only when closer, as Marina was, could it be seen that she carried no satchel, but rather the swaying, soft mounds were flesh. Titflesh. 

Marina couldn't help but be encouraged at the human's progress; so many humans afflicted with preposterous breasts became recluses, shutting themselves away in fear and horror at their deformity. But those days were fading; since Magic returned to the Earth, the cases of runaway fertility spells, dubious potions of lactation, and misfiring amulets of womanhood had come with a price; The innumerable libido spells conjured both by and at human women could easily backfire. But that didn't bother Violet anymore; she had resolved that her breasts would *never* slow her down, even though they did weight almost 30 pounds. But these days, it wasn't so difficult as in those first, early years.

Her human friend was going forth proudly, onto the beach, in a string bikini specially designed to accommodate her Double K-cup bosom. Marina didn't really understand bra-sizes, but anyone could see how big the girl was. It had taken the human years to finally become strong enough to walk as she once did. Most impressive, and Marina owed a lot to the human. Really, there were two reasons why Marina had come here, to Panama City Beach, Violet was one of them. As for the other....

Marina recited a brief litany of mystical words in an arcane tongue, a litany that she could easily recite in her sleep. The air shimmered as the fae completed her spell; tiny twinkles of sparkling light appeared in the air, nearby the silver-scaled fish tail poking from beneath the suds, where the legs would have been on a human. The tail blurred, shimmered, rippling as though vibrating rapidly. Then; it melted. The halves of her fish-fin separated, blurring and shimmering...elongating, lightening in color.

She pinioned her human legs, examining them in the fluorescent light. Sleek curves, good muscle tone without being intimidating, and dainty feet. She flexed her cottony-soft, alabaster toes. Up close, one could see a sparkling pattern of iridescent patches seemingly beneath the skin, shining like flecks of mother-of-pearl; the last vestige of her piscine anatomy. The few men that noticed it said it made her more exotic. She rose and glided out of the tub, and then the bathroom. Years ago, when she had first mastered the Land-walking spell, she had been unsteady and awkward walking on human legs, but Marina had by now fully adapted to life on Earth, as well as walking.

She'd watched enough T.V., and frankly she needed to get herself off. Upon entering the main motel room, she opened the blinds revealing a first-floor view of the beach. A human woman would have been scandalized at the thought of strangers on a beach being able to see her naked, sudsy body with but a glance through the glass; but as a fae, that was Marina's fervent hope. Like all fae, Marina was indeed a slut, and yet....well it wasn't quite that simple. There were many delicious human males that would love the chance to bury themselves into her moist, very human-looking cunt. And she knew it, she had come to understand the male animal, because ever since coming to Earth, the male sex drive had been her preoccupation.

With a throaty sigh, she threw her naked, nubile form upon one of the motel beds, and dragged out a walkman from her gym bag. She attached earphones to her head and selected a CD track at random. Yes...yes....more wondrous than all the pearlescent splendor of the jewel-encrusted, underwater cities mermaids lived in back on Faerie. Marina had never really liked her home that much; with magic declining, and the Fae races waning, her underwater home had been almost consigned to doom. For the water-dwelling fae had suffered the worst. As magic faded, Fae fertility declined, females becoming far out of proportion to their males. No where was this clearer than in the seas of Faerie. Marina couldn't remember when she'd seen a man. Yes, the land-dwellers had some men. Those few remaining. But her terrestrial cousins horded their males; since their wasn't enough cock to go around for the elves, pixies, and nymphs on land, how could they possibly share with the mermaids or water nymphs; whose males had faded away long ago?

Back home, back on faerie it was nothing but women. Everywhere Marina went were women doing female things, having feminine discussions. For year after year after year. She really didn't know how long, and if pressed, couldn't really tell you even how old she was; time progressing differently on Faerie. The mermaid knew only that it had been a long, long time, and that she came to loathe the place. There were no words to express her joy when the Conjunction occurred; when fae began the Great Crossing back to the Earth. Marina could only express her joy by rutting away on the hard dicks of the abundant, male population.

Blaring in her delicate ears where lewd, crude sounds of morally offensive rap music. Angry, aggressive diatribes against society, government, and humans with different shades of skin. Marina had discovered this sort of music at about the same time she realized her problem; and at the same time her mission. At first, she thought that breeding once or twice would satisfy her, and that her life would be much the same as that of a human woman's. But she was thwarted by her own primal, lustful instinct. The more Marina had sex, the more she was filled with cock, the greater became her hunger. Each time she gave birth to another half-human daughter, she felt even more aware of her womanhood, even more sexual, even more instinctively slutty. Human women she met often felt satisfied after giving birth to 3 or 4 children, unwilling to suffer the process again. Yet with the silver-haired mermaid, each birthing only made her hunger for more. In time, her true purpose was clear; she could count on no one but herself to repopulate the aquatic fae. There were so few left, and fewer still that made the Crossing. Marina would need to birth a nation from her fertile loins. 

And yet....she came to realize that most human males were not suitable for her particular need. The pulse-pounding beat of the rappers in her ears reminded her of her resolution, as she ran her hand over ample bosom, down through the flat plane of her belly, to rub against her now-human pussy, before tickling her new legs. She needed not just any man, but rather the rudest, most aggressive, most angry humans. She could no longer tolerate fawning, polite men that tried to woo her with clever wit. She needed the dangerous humans, the most violent. That was why she loved the Rap music; these men were eternally angry, boasted freely of committing dangerous crimes within this highly-structured modern society. Their derring-do, their unrepentant aggression, and most of all their passionate lusts stirred the Mermaid's soul.

She couldn't stop laughing when she watched that old, Disney cartoon of 'The Little Mermaid'. *This* mermaid didn't need or want a handsome 'Prince Charming' to woo her with flower petals and moonlit strolls. She wanted to be Taken. Taken by a thug. Ravished like the lusty wench she was. She would lay back like this, envisioning her favorite Rap-stars, these seething, angry humans. She envisioned what they would do to her if she fell into their power. She shuddered with the imagining of the coarse, powerful hands upon her silky-smooth, faerie flesh. If these unabashedly lustful thugs could see her now, a naked girl with breasts bigger than honey-dew melons, writhing in ecstatic yearning upon a hotel bed, listening with rapt attention to their own music..if only. She almost didn't need the sex-toy she withdrew next from her gym bag.

To call the Lothario-3000 a dildo was an insult. The device was composed of the finest latex, internal vibrators, and even a gel-pack heated with exothermic chemical reactions to better simulate the real thing. Marina of course, had chosen the black one; truly a work of art; though such conveniences had become big-business with the arrival of the Fae. She imagined it was a cock from one of these wrathful, libidinous rappers; men that would claim her, men that would ravish her. It was what both she, and all aquatic fae needed. There would be hard times ahead; the survival of her kind would demand hard choices, hard decisions, and harder men. Aggressive, risk-taking men. Uncompromising males of great ambition and greater lust. Her womb would breed males that would not ask permission, but would take what they could. And as such, that was the only sort of man Marina would allow to impregnate her anymore.

She was at once an easy lay, and untouchable. She resolved never to respond to niceties, or the impassioned pleas of love from her soft-hearted suitors; instead she would tease. Tease and torment with naked, flawless flesh. She would flaunt her abundant bosom and fertile figure, naked when possible, in shameless disregard for propriety. She would never reward witty jokes, or sensitive banter; the man that wanted her would have to claim her. As the rappers continued their semi-musical outrage in her ears, she envisioned the man that would someday possess her like an object; The very notion offended her, and made her pussy moist at the same time. He would be a rough and savage human, a man she would fear. And her fear would make her magically-created knees weak with lust.

She didn't talk about these desires much with her human girlfriends; she suspected that they would be unable to comprehend her dire need to be ravished, dominated, and impregnated. All this time on Earth, through some wretched fae curse, she had only borne daughters. But she was persistent; someday her womb would bear a male. The father of her future son would not ask, would not beg, he would take her, claim her. She would be his little Sea-bitch. He needn't even be a rapper, or athlete. Almost any man willing to actually grab her breasts would possess them. If a man was willing to slap her ripe, bulging ass, he could have it. She would be his bitch, and her belly would swell with male offspring, that the aquatic fae might go on.

She almost didn't need the dildo, pistoning in and out, in and out of the slippery heat of her cunt. The voice of her favorite singers almost driving her to orgasm through the power of their own 'bad-boy' charm. It was then that she lost control. It was her tits, of course. One of the reasons why she had come here; Violet was the first, motivating Marina, helping her to work towards their mutual goal, fae being notoriously lacking in discipline. The second reason was her tits.

While listening to her walkman, the Mermaid's fingers began gripping her warm mammaries; her fingers on each hand grasping, middle and ring-fingers on either side of each erect nipple. That was when the growth started. Her breasts, larger already than that of most any 20th century porn star began to warm, throb, and stretch. No, not quite stretching, the entirety of each tit simply increased itself, and her fingers were being carried apart; as the flesh they gripped expanded and engorged, amidst throaty moans. The process had begun; the magical process that Marina knew she had control over. The dull, warm throb began in the center of each tit, as her hands were gradually pushed apart, widening the span of her fingers, while boobs already the size of bowling balls transcended themselves. But such powers came with a price.

The throaty moan tore itself from the mermaid's pouty lips as the burning, tingling sensation began in all her erogenous zones. She felt the magic, as her breasts grew, she would become ever more fertile. She quivered, almost loosing her grip on the dildo as her pussy began to jerk and throb. As the seconds dragged on, the rising tide of inflating bosom began to obscure her view of her feet; her perfect, human-looking feet that she was so proud of were eclipsed from her perspective as bowling balls became basketballs, and larger still. As she writhed in ecstasy, for a moment it became hard to remember whether she still had her magically-conjured woman's legs, or her natural mermaid's tail. A shimmering tingle passed throughout her slender body, Marina arched her back in a gurgling cry; the heady combination of Rap music, and her superior dildo was pushing her beyond the limits of control.

She smelled it then; a thick, cloying, briny scent. Her own unique blend of Fae mating musk. Marina's blend was especially thick, she believed that her body was responding to the low population of aquatic fae with an added intensity to her own sexual attractant. Soon, the room was thick with the enchanted aroma exuding from her fae pussy. The only sensation diminishing her erotic utopia was the intense pressure deep in her tits. Raising a pink nipple to her soft lips, she suckled her own overgrown mammaries. It always gave the mermaid a dirty thrill to savor the nutritious nectar her body produced....*mmm* syrupy sweet...so rich....Whenever her breast milk became this sweet, it meant that she was at the peak of her fertility. Her boobs quivered, slipping from her lips, and both nipples unleashed a white spray of lactation upon the bed covers.

On reflection, perhaps it was better that there was no man in this room to see the over-endowed mermaid in her aroused nudity. The way her pheromone musk had permeated the room, even the most shy, reclusive nerd would become overwhelmed by her attractant. The weakest, most cowardly of human men would be driven berserk at the thickness and potency of the rut musk her cunt produced. Any man would attack her, pinning her to the bed in his maddening urge to impregnate the receptive fae. She needed a man to lay claim to her, and to do so because he was filled with ambition, determined to take risks to get what he wanted, not because her mating musk was burning in his blood.

As her body flailed, her gaze was cast out to the blue expanse of the Caribbean Sea offshore. So warm and inviting; in a few short years, it would be the fruit of *her* loins that would swim in those seas. So soon, faerie creatures squeezed from *her* cunt would populate the oceans of the Earth. She only needed her man, the right man. Willing to ignore the laws, codes, statutes, and traditions of this society to claim her as his bitch. The orgasm came as the rappers on the CD spoke of how they treated their "Ho's." And what might they do to her? She stretched her sleek legs, pointing her toes as she envisioned the virile might of one of her rap stars. What might such a man do to her soft, vulnerable, fae-flesh? She rarely spoke of such desires to her human friends. Human women just wouldn't understand her need to be taken....



**********

She had been wrong; all wrong. Viviana knew now of her mistake. The door of the ladies' room swung open, and the demented gleam in the woman's hungry eyes seem more appropriate for a Fae than a human. And the busty, Hispanic girl knew that the Fae were not far off. There he was....there was her date. He had spent a good deal of money to wine and dine her, and it was wasted. All a waste.

Ah yes...there came the drooping jaws, the widened eyes as the deluded humans beheld her glory. Already, her breasts had been fantastic for a human; perky, yet full globes of tawny mammary, capped by wide aureoles and proud nipples, the deep shadows cast by her D-cups were enough to shroud a man's cock in darkened bliss. She needed to let them breathe; there was nothing wrong with her boobs; no need to cover them. Tits were natural; tits like hers were healthy. Let the World see! And they were still growing; the Fae, that pregnant elf in the ladies' room had done something to her, awakened her to the truth. She felt ecstatic tingles as her teats adjusted, expanding themselves to match her new libido.

Look at Daniel; a good-enough man, completely speechless, from the fire in her now-green eyes, smoldering with the passion of her Revelation. Look at him, eyes riveted on her womanly globes, swaying naked in the posh light of the chandelier. He did not understand yet; but she would show him the new truth; the ultimate truth: That the measure of a man was not money, a sense of humor, or emotional sympathy, the measure of a man was his sperm output. So simple, so liberating.

"Uh..V-Viviana...? asked Daniel in a quavering voice, as she looped her arm in his and prepared to strut in all her topless glory out of the dining room.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 02



"Yes Daniel, I have decided to take control of our date." she replied in a flat, controlled voice.

"B-but..but...we're leaving? What about Dinner?" His hazel eyes were wide in surprise as she hauled him to his feet. Viviana paused.

"Hmmm yes, I nearly forgot dinner." with a pleasant smile, she picked up the delicate, crystal glass filled with sparkling champagne, and leisurely poured the drink all over the coppery skin of her naked breasts. "This is all the dinner you need, Dear Daniel."

The Maitre'de was about to call...well, someone...but was relieved that the slutty latina quickly left after exposing herself.

She couldn't wait for him to drive her anywhere; she needed to test him, to measure his worthiness before he would be allowed to take her anywhere. She took the car keys from his pocket, pushed Daniel into the Lexus, and folded back the seats to give them room. She took Daniel's hands and brushed his palms across her, down the hollow of her clavicle and shoulder, brought his lips to her breasts, that he might slurp the remains of the champagne that moistened her nipples. His moans of feverish delight only confirmed her new certainty.

His short-trimmed, brown beard tickled her breasts as she took stock of him; hazel eyes beneath a full head of hair, parted in the center, tall, almost lanky physique. A bit hairy; it reminded her of a savage beast that Viviana hoped he would become. She was no longer interested in his bank-account, the silly concerns of human women! Human women? Wasn't she human? What an odd thought.

"Here...is the deal....Daniel dear..." she breathed huskily, as the remnants of her cocktail dress seemed to evaporate, whilst straddling his hips, already tenting with the expression of his masculine potential. "If you wish to continue this date, or if you wish to ever go out with me again; you must be tested." His pants were gone now; his 7-inches of meat fully extended; a good sign!

"My family has always believed that a man should provide for his woman; and you must do the same. You Daniel, will provide me with sperm, all your sperm. You must cum three times; that is my new rule. If your sperm is enough, you will earn a second date."

It was best not to question such things. Daniel was afraid that to analyze, consider this new weirdness, for fear that it would end. Sometimes a man got lucky like this. Strange though, he was sure that Viviana never had eyes of such a brilliant green.



**********

It was time; her time. It was her chance to shine again, to be beautiful, desirable....powerful again! Violet was already accustomed to her condition; she had finished mourning what she could not change, and she was used to the stares. Before college, in those first months after her 'accident' Violet would never have worn the hot-pink bikini that now barely concealed her athletic figure. She, like so many others, would have been terminally embarrassed. But her shame never accomplished anything; her embarrassment could not give her hope.

So Violet had learned to take it in stride at first, ignoring the comments, the whispers, the slack-jawed stares. Soon, she became numb to the attention. I mean really, how could she expect people not to stare at magically-enlarged breasts only a little smaller than standard beach balls? There was no helping it; the clinical magicians didn't want to risk more magic to reduce her prodigious bosom, fearing complications from any attempt to reverse her 'Thaumaturgical Mammary Hypertrophy', the magical breast growth which was becoming all too tragically common these days.

She liked to roller-blade along beaches like this, to gather her thoughts and relax, as the sun and wind caressed her bronzed physique. She was something or somewhere around a Double K-cup, and just learning to walk again with her condition was almost as bad as paraplegic rehabilitation. But she was no longer constrained, no longer confined. Violet and others that suffered from accidental magical breast growth would not be denied. Too long, she and others like her hid themselves away, fearing any human contact in their abject shame. But no longer; those days were over. Women of preposterous endowments; as the media called them, were emerging from their basements, from the dark places they had been hiding. They would not spend the rest of their lives weeping with embarrassment, they would stand, and be counted. They would return to public life, and to hell with anyone that didn't like it! (Or those that liked them too much)

The preposterous udders flowed and swayed across the lithe human's chest; she had to walk with a sort of rhythm; to prevent the bosomy inertia of her tits from menacing passersby. But it was easy now, each day she was becoming more comfortable, more accepting of what she had brought upon herself with a dubious 'Super-Boob' potion, and what medical science could not correct. She could talk to people, and accept their stares without emotion, the lurid howls from the sickos that thought she was a walking wet dream no longer angered her.

Women like her, women like Violet had found ways to empower themselves; and that was why she was here. As surely as a 20th century bra would have been destroyed trying to contain the awesome expanse of her magic-powered mammaries, so too were women of preposterous proportions breaking the straps of shame, and embarrassment. She unfolded the newspaper clipping again, and smiled to herself. It had happened to her last year; when Violet woke-up one day and realized that she no longer wished for the accident to be reversed. She didn't really want to go back to her old, flatter self. She had accepted herself, and then allowed herself to take pride again.

   4TH ANNUAL 

INTERNATIONAL BODY FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF BREAST ENTHUSIASM

BOSOM BUILDING COMPETITION

COLLEGIATE CIRCUIT. 

 PANAMA CITY, FL.

The audacity had stunned the world; these women were now flaunting their magical deformities; declaring themselves not freaks, but rather people of 'fully-realized womanhood'. And their numbers were growing; any woman experimenting with cosmetic magic took the risk. They had researched their condition, their new breasts, and the misbegotten magic that endowed them; and while there was no reliable cure for 'T.M.H.', women had found remarkable means of controlling their bosoms; gaining mastery over them in a way not believed possible. And Violet had practiced ways to control her 'girls' and increase her mobility all the time.

Soon, Bosom-Building Competitions were broadcast on major television networks during primetime, amid much furor. And the World knew that this new 'sport' had achieved acceptance when some women, mediocre fitness models, decided to try their 'hand' in this new arena; there were women that deliberately over-dosed on fertility potions, knowing full-well the disaster that would result. 'The community' had found many ways to adjust their conditions, and Violet now had the means to alter the full size of her preponderous boobs, within some limits, and at last, she was getting her lactation under control! She only needed to milk herself an hour a day! And she felt she was ready; ready to become a 'fully-realized' woman. She had trained, she had prepared, she had done her homework. Violet's chest swelled yet more with pride, and accidentally bumped into a pixie on the sidewalk carrying a bag of groceries.

The Fae tumbled ingloriously into the sand, hotdogs, thick cigars, carrots, and cucumbers scattered. She blew a strand of purple hair out of her smooth, porcelain face. Wispy, translucent antennae unfurled nervously above her hairline.

"Oh my...I'm so sorry; Sometimes it's like they've got a mind of their own." quipped Violet, pointing to her culprit breasts, quivering upon her torso like frightened midgets. "Let me help you up..."

"I'm fine," replied the Pixie testily, fluttering the gossamer, diaphanous wings that sprouted from between her shoulder blades, which levitated her back onto her feet, the wispy wings far too small to support her in flight without some form of magic. "So what are you supposed to be, a bosom builder?" The purple-haired pixie spoke with a snide, superior tone.

"Yup; I'm a contender in the collegiates." 

"Oh really?" The pixie seemed to take offense at this; maybe she was just upset over being boob-whacked. But then, Violet saw them. The fae girl, wearing a purple bikini no more substantial than Violet's seemed to puff out her chest, her grapefruit boobs gleaming in the sun; skin the color of polished marble. Wait...no, her breasts were rapidly filling out; approaching b...bowling ball size! The purple pixie stood unmoved, without the slightest hint of strain as her top-heavy anatomy continued far past the boundaries of normal human femininity. No hunching, no muscle spasms as inflating titflesh surged ever forward, her technique was flawless! 

When a girl became the victim of runaway fertility magic, her breasts tended to leap and jerk in spasms, quivering as her womanly bounty multiplied, rending and shredding whatever unfortunate clothes were in their path. But not this time; the fairy female has achieved a perfect, seamless expansion technique as smooth as the sunrise. The swelling mounds, growing from melon-size, to bowling balls, onward to a bosomy volume as large as most safety helmets expanded in perfect proportion. It was as if Violet's eyes simply grew ever closer to the enchanted fairy breasts, the hint of a golden aureole creeping out from under her bikini top. Who was she? How did...

Oh wait...that face...those tits....Violet recognized this pixie! She was also a contender!

"Heeyyyy....I know you....Titaniaera, 1st place in the Collegiates 2 years ago...." Violet's eyes widened in recognition.

"*I* am Titaniaera, Crystal Dancer of the Rainbow Towers of 3rd Aglarond!" She seemed to savor her full, Fairy title. Violet shrugged. The convoluted politics of the Realm of Fairy were irrelevant; The Fae were forced to abandon their homes for Earth because of the waning magic. They would have to get used to the *real* world. Still, her title sounded important; whatever it meant, but here she was; having to buy her own groceries like anyone else. Heh.

"My friends call me Titty," continued the pixie, with a jiggle of her enchanted bosoms. "*You* can call me Titaniera." Her purple eyebrows arched with an imperious air, as she stepped forward; smoothly expanding teats soon equaling the human's own. So that's how it was eh? Hmm...the rumors were true then.

The Pixie known in the Breast Enthusiast community as Titty was infamous for the lingering cloud of ethics violations, arrogance, and outrageous sexual exploits. This was a more recent development; many Fae had become fascinated by the achievements of the Bosom Builders, and began bending their own magical prowess to compete with human women. In the Collegiate circuit, perhaps no one was more controversial than Titty. She was a pixie from San Francisco, a town where the Fae had flourished as never before; and while she had been cleared of the ethics violations, there was still suspicions. 

She would be a formidable opponent; pixies were experts at size-altering magic, that was why she now had the full stature of a human adult, a very, very healthy adult human. Apparently, she had invested much of that magic in her breasts. Titty stood eye to eye with the tall, tanned, athletic human, (Violet had to be buffed to walk with 30-pound tits!) Purple eyes glared into each other, as the pixie's tits completed their inflation to equal the human's; bosoms pressing, cajoling against each other in a jiggly battle for mammalian supremacy.

"We'll see who the contender is, human..."



**********

Lies. So many lies. Professor Lily was walking....no...not here, here she was on vacation, Spring Break. She was free from the strictures and constraints of a university professor. Here she would be herself, here she would be the Fae that she truly was. Here she was just Lily. The warm sand caressed her bare toes as she luxuriated in her freedom. Despite all the pretenses of her office at Madison University, she was in essence the same sort of slut as the unicorn Cori, or her Pixie friend Lisa.

Life on Earth had been good to the forest nymph; with every sex-act, every time one of her human students impregnated her with a shot of hot semen within the willing folds of her flowery cunt, her connection to the magical life-blood of the planet increased; and Lilywas caught in a vicious circle; the more sex she had, the more fertile she became. Every birth only served to increase her magical fecundity. And now, as happened to many Fae, she had started to youthen dramatically over several months. Not uncommon, but it became something of a dilemma for the serious, career-minded fairy.

Important humans in the modern world just couldn't bring themselves to respect a creature with a voice like a canary singing soprano, and the fresh face of a girl just out of high-school. (Not to mention porn-star boobs) While human women tried creams and salves to appear younger, many fae that desired respect created a market for a line of products that made them appear older. Many professional Fae insisted such deception was essential to be considered for a job more lofty than prostitution or pornography.

But here, at last....on the sandy beaches of Florida, Lily the Forest Nymph had cast off all such illusions. Caustic creams and tiny adhesive strips to make her appear to be a woman over 30 had been washed away; the nubile nymph was a fresh-faced as a Freshman, blending in perfectly with the hedonistic humans, and the Fae that were....well, just being Fae. Of course, no human professor from her College would consider joining students on their Spring Break, but that was just the sort of attitude that Lily wished to escape from.

She intended to explore her true nature, and her new goddess-powers. It was a chance to reconnect with her nymph nature. Even before arriving, The Drive had grown stronger. As a creature infused with the essence of nature's fertility, Lily had a primal urge to increase life for its own sake. Most humans eventually had a desire to have children, but for the Nymphs, it was far greater. She felt a yearning to not only reproduce, but to cause others to breed as well. She could not explain to a human the ecstasy that came when creatures under her influence began to produce new life, except that it was an addictive feeling, and more a selfish pleasure than anything else.

That was why Lily had slipped into the Beach Party behind the Tropical-Motif restaurant. She had seen a chuckling, cocky young man spiking the fruit punch with some sort of potent alcohol; a prank of some sort? She decided to improve upon his meddling. When no one was watching, the Professor took the opportunity to pull the center of her white bikini, exposing a rosy nipple just long enough to lace the punch with the milk from her own EE-cup, honeydew-melon breasts. Lily needed to know, she needed to see what her new powers could achieve. That was how the orgy started.

It's a funny thing about magic. Sometimes, you know full well that a spell is compelling you, but that won't help you resist it. Yes, the Co-eds knew that the explosion of primal lust that engulfed them must have been from a spell, but your desire to obey the magic's control was no less that the desire to obey your own will. Her goddess-powers enabled her to tweak the libidos of the mixed crowd of humans, that combined with her breast milk seemed to corrupt their very souls; minds snapped beneath the full fury of the rutting frenzy.

Amazing! Now that she had achieved...what was that word? Apotheosis? Whatever the leprechaun had told her, the Orgies that Lily could cause had become thoughtlessly easy. Not only where the handsome, well-muscled students thrusting and grinding into each others genitalia like the world was coming to an end, but the magic adjusted their anatomies so that the sexcapades could continue long beyond the limits of human endurance.

There came a collective groan from six frat-brothers as they disengaged from the willing, welcome pussies that had enveloped their rigid members in surprise. The blond, lithely muscled boys found their cocks growing with each coupling; for every impregnation, they became only more potent. And more lustful...gripping cocks that ruled them like the rudder of a ship, they began steering themselves into the moist depths of female lips more than eager to accept their throbbing, fleshy torpedoes.

A brunette and a redhead girl, freshmen most likely, writhed in forbidden ecstasy upon the sands, bikinis quickly shed. They grunted with shock and surprise as they felt their own hips widening in leaps and spurts. Asses ballooned, and pelvises expanded with throaty grunts as a mighty spell prepared them not just for breeding, but for the bearing of truly vast litters of children. Wide, child-bearing hips would serve them well in their new life as breeding sluts. 

The redhead knew that she always wanted to go to college, become a lawyer, put-off even the question of kids until after 30; but that was before. Twisting, quivering, as her brain was sautéed in a stew of sexual hormones, she knew that her life had been changed forever. Yes, this was clearly magic, but that didn't matter to her; her knew destiny was not litigation, but prostration, as she spread her legs for the many, many men that would seed her womb. It was with happiness that she looked towards her new life, on her back like the breeding whore she was. 

The brunette's name was Stacy, and she tore away the bikini bottom, raising her ass in the air with a timeless invitation for bestial rutting. The sound that emanated from her throat was half-grunt, half-scream as she thumped her palm against the sand; announcing her availability to...well....everyone. She was growing impatient....where there no cocks ready to knock her up with the first of her many young? Even now, she felt her hips and ass continue to widen and swell slightly, and she exulted in her transformation into an ideal brood-mare. All she needed was a hard cock to....Ahhh....

*SCLOONK*

Her pussy, moistened by the erotic stimulation of her transformation accepted the entire 8-inch shaft with a single thrust! A howl of inarticulate delight tore itself from her throat as the link was made. The Brunette felt connected to all time, to all life by the rod that penetrated her. Her mate grasped her thighs for better purchase as he ground himself up to the hilt within the frothing sea of female bliss splayed before him. Muscles jerking, she pushed back against him. Let him never think that her lust was any less! She stretched herself around his rod, hoping that through her willingness, she could encourage him to screw with yet greater intensity.

Should Stacy look? Should she turn around and see the face of her bare-back rider? She debated with herself whether it was necessary to look upon the face of the man about to seed her womb with his potent essence. It didn't seem important; there was no one at this party that she would reject, they were all fine specimens. Her Mate was athletic at least; bunches of corded muscles pressed against her thigh as he thrust yet again, and he was a bit hairy. His flesh...warm...warmer than usual...his penis seemed to dance and quiver within her more often than other men. Yet he was suitable. He had what she needed, and there was no man here she would reject, for the fires burning in her blood told her that he was the first of many.

**********

She would have to forego the luxury. For most mermaids, one of the most sublime pleasures of the beach was sunning herself; allowing your scales to soak up the sunlight, feeling the lingering warmth as they trapped the heat enveloping her flesh like a soothing glove. And indeed, Mariana was not the only Mermaid here today, with that intent.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 02



But there was a problem; the silver mermaid had discovered long ago that while the notion of the Mermaid was wondrous and romantic certainly, but most people just...just didn't know what to do with her fish-body, when a human male sought a woman to screw around with, far too often he would choose someone with a familiar set of legs. The busty sea-fae couldn't allow the humans to consider her a less available sex partner on account of her tail. So, she allowed only a few, brief minutes before converting tail to legs; soft, toned, perfect legs. And with those legs came a ripe, wet pussy.

But it was not enough to lay there, passively upon her beach blanket, waiting to be flirted with. She ran her hands the full length of her figure, pretending to apply yet more sun block, arching her back and releasing sensuous moans that were only slight exaggerations of her true state. And...yes! She got one! There was her target...there was her man...Naturally, her moist womanhood was bare to the world, both in defiance of the human laws against indecent exposure, and because one simply cannot fit a bikini over a fish tail.

He was a broad-shouldered stud. Black hair, slicked back and a rugged goatee that suggested a tone of rebellion mirrored in his passionate, dark eyes. Marina allowed herself a brief smile, as she began to knead her own breast flesh, her knees flaring in and out, flagrantly displaying the most lurid charms of womanhood. Her pussy came first; but she knew, she felt that her perfect lower lips were as alluring and healthy as that of any human's. But what about her legs?

She stretched them again, her toned legs conjured by magic needed to be perfect; it was her fear, as well as that of all mermaids, that the only males available, human males would not be frightened away from lusting after her due to her unique anatomy. It all came down to the humans. Fae bloodlines were weak, the magic was fading, male Fae were of no use to her. Only through the gift of human sperm would the mermaid race survive. From the dainty tips of her feet, through the length of calves and thighs, smooth as mother-of-pearl, and similar in color, down to her thighs and hips. Which seemed to grow larger with every pregnancy. Yes, her magic had succeeded; the imitation was perfect. No healthy human male could gaze upon her lower body and escape an onslaught of erotic thoughts.

Mr. Broad-shoulders allowed himself a broader smile, a shiver passing through him, despite the heat when he beheld the audacious exhibitionism of the indecent fae-girl before him. Marina had baited the hook; the Fish was in sight, now she had to reel him in. Her tits would seal the deal. That was the problem; the complication. There were some men on Earth that did not believe a woman should have breasts larger than her own head. But she would take a gamble; she would assume that this human would be enticed by heavy, heaving mounds of healthy boob. How big? The only way to be sure was with a slow growth.

Her breasts, augmented by long months of Bosom Building training were already perkier, and even more resistant to gravity than most Fae, her melons protruded proudly, nipples angling forward, arrow-straight towards her intended mate. Her bosom was symmetrical; equal amounts of buoyant tit-flesh quivered both below and above the circle of her aureoles as they began to increase in size from that of mere grape-fruits, (sort of a resting, default size) onward through several fertile bouts of fecund expansion. 

It was only when her tits were nearing cantaloupes size that she finally noticed Broad-shoulder's prominent erection protruding from trunks making a valiant effort to conceal his mighty meat. Bikini....straining the fabric that was intended for Fae females with unearthly breast-sizes, yet still the white top had definite limits. She could hear his ragged breathing, as pupils dilated. Yes...it was working! She had guessed correctly; this one was indeed a tit-man. She moaned luridly, caressing her bosom with passion that was no longer forced. She had to remind herself; not just any man would work. He had to be a male with the right lustful aggression; the sort that would take her, claim her with or without her permission. The mermaid race needed people like that, and hopefully it would be her womb that would give birth to the future.

With each cup-size, the human drew closer, and she knew he was committed. As her tits enlarged from cantaloupes to soccer-balls, she resolved not to rip-off her bikini top; she would allow the surge of her own udders to rupture the tortured fabric on their own. Let the human see the full grandeur of her breasts; let him see pure boob tear asunder the aggravating constraints of civilization in a jiggling climax of voluptuous freedom. Yes...soon...the mermaid's breathing was labored, sweat caused her silvery hair to cling to her brow, as the thin straps began to give way.

**CRICCK**

**ERIP**

The Pop was inevitable, yet the throaty cry from the Fae's own throat occurred simultaneously. That's when things started to happen. The human, his hand reaching, groping for the female flesh on blatant display...so close...3 feet....1 foot...and Marina could smell the human's cologne when -WHHHUUUMPH!!

What! Another human! A second man, taller, lankier, and older had tackled Mr. Broadshoulders! The two scrambled in the sand. The newcomer was poorly dressed for the beach; he was loping around with dress pants around his ankles, boxing shorts barely concealing an awesome erection, and a furious gleam in his vividly green eyes, glaring out madly within a brown-bearded face, with hair parted in the center.

"N-NEED...P-PUSSY....." snarled the bearded human.

"HEY ASS-WIPE GET YOUR OWN! I SAW HER FIRST!!" and with that the brawling began.

Marina's pussy melted. A hot tide of juice lubricated her splayed cunt as her heart skipped a beat. Two Men! Two human males fighting over her! Two virile humans struggling with each other for the right to seed her fertile womb. Her huffing voice turned to a snarling gurgle, as the breeding urge tingled from her crotch to every nerve along her back. The strongest male would claim her, thrust himself within her, and blast her inner sanctum with hot, life-giving seed. She spread her legs wide, her moist twat releasing a burst of her own Brine-scented mating musk, so that the winner of the struggle would have no doubt of the reward that awaited him.

She never meant for it to be like this. The silver-haired mermaid had no idea she would become such a wanton hussy before she came to Earth. She once thought her life would be not much different from that of many human females; but something happened to her the first time she had sex with a man. Her sexuality awakened like an inferno, she became more intensely, lustfully female the longer she remained on Earth. Her biological clock had sounded an alarm, an alarm that she could not shut off, in her cunt. How long would she be like this? How long would her ravenous libido drive her to breed and birth the offspring of the humans? She hoped it never ended; the passion of her desire....how she loved her state of everlasting, sexual heat!

But still....something about that second human...his eyes; that eerie shade of green, almost...unnatural? Well, from the look of his raging cock, his cum was as good as any. Her musings interrupted by another tide of seething lust.



**********

"P-please...I need you!" said the Fae. Jorge felt a twinge of desire the moment he laid eyes upon the fairy woman. She had collapsed to the side of his life-guard station, clutching her ankle. She was a tall one, over 6 feet and wet with the salty ocean. The water plastered her brilliant blue-hair to her pale brow, as her eyes widened like cerulean pools of liquid passion, that passion being a deep, forlorned yearning. Was it from some injury, or something deeper.

Jorge flexed his ample muscles, unable to resist the chance to impress her with a brief show of his fitness. As he climbed down to her, he brushed back his raven-black hair, his squared-jaw firming with gallant resolve.

"Are you hurt? Your ankle?" he asked, concerned. Corded muscles tensing beneath his bronzed skin, as he prepared to assist the Fae to her feet.

"Y-yes...I just...I need to get back to my car...could you...could you..c- oh, I'm...it's embarrassing..." Her eyes of crystalline blue lowered in shame. Moist droplets of wetness flowed in rivulets down her radiant skin.

"It's alright; I'm here to help." reassured Jorge.

"I just need someone to carry me b-back to my car...so I can get my cell-phone.." Her words were almost questioning; as if she only half believed them herself. She raised her glistening arms to him. Jorge shrugged. If this gorgeous hottie wanted him to carry her wet, bikini-clad, busty body around the beach well....he was here to serve. But he did take a quick glance to the water to make sure that no one was drowning.

Jorge hoped that his arousal wasn't too obvious; the girl had the body of a goddess! Statuesque, sculpted legs of chiseled perfection. Wide hips for easy purchase during sex or birthing. Breasts seemed to leap and jiggle with a life of their own; similar in size to the EE-cups of a 20th-century stripper, yet they seemed to swell and flex, as though they might change and inflate at any time. Her elegant, upswept face had a vague, rainbow shadow around her eyes; forlorned eyes. The Fae proceeded to wrap her arms and legs around his muscled back as the human hoisted her.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Jorge thought he heard the fae girl whisper something as she clung to him.

"N-no..nothing." she said quickly. The muscled human merely shrugged and enjoyed the feel of her warm, moist flesh, barely clad against his own muscled firmness.

"So...uh...how do you like Florida?" he asked, decided that a bit of conversation would only be polite.

"Oh...uhm...yes...warm, wet...yes...it's uhm...yes." She seemed reluctant to talk for some reason, content merely to clutch him, occasionally rubbing his body as he carried her.

"Here, um...let me dry you off." he offered, good thing he brought his towel. She giggled as he secured the lovely fae in the crux of his left arm, with his right he proceeded to towel off her firm belly, and down to the sweep of her thighs...her skin reflecting rainbow highlights of otherworldly beauty. And he dried...and toweled. Finally he took a risk and moved the towel near her chest and....

Now that was odd; His towel was almost saturated, dripping with water, and yet the sleek legs, belly and rump that he had dried seemed just as wet as before. Flowery-scented moisture seemed to pour off the girl's nubile body. Jorge frowned, but kept trying.

"mrussliktyie..." came an eerie murmur from the Fae girl, as she positioned her head over his shoulder. He felt a delicate finger tracing a line along the small of his back.

"What was that?"

"Uhhm...I..I just meant what...firm muscles you have!" twittered the Fae nervously. Jorge was about to...HEY!..WHAT THE...his pants...they...

The buffed life-guard almost dumped the Fae into the sand as the sensation built up. That was when he noticed the sparkles in the air; tiny points of flickering light. Magic! The Fae bitch had cast a spell on him!

"Hey! Crazy chica! What was that for! Here I am helping you out after you asked me!"

"Please...do not be mad!" pleaded the watery fairy as Jorge's cock began to twist, and leap within his pants.

"You cast some weird, slutty spell on me! What for! Why...why-y..y.." His penis grew yet larger, not as though it was erect, it was increasing in mass! Within his pants, his rigid rod stretched and grew, desire growing as large as his newly-empowered manhood!

"I..I *had* to do it! I apologize! You see; My name is Shelly, I am a water nymph. That's why you can't dry me off with a towel, you could not dry me off with a blow-torch in the Sahara, I am wet because I am a water nymph, not because I was in the ocean."

"B-but..." he was bewildered as his thrusting rod reached over 10 inches.

"I...they...we need you! I chose you and...well, a man of your strength is required! The spell wouldn't work unless I found a man of great strength! We need you badly, you'll understand in a moment." The nymph laid back onto the sandy beach, and with a snap removed her blue string bikini, revealing the lips of the wettest pussy the Life-guard had ever seen.

"I...I know it is not true to the ideals of human romance, but please; I have to beg you to have sex with me, right now! You know not how important it is that I get your cock inside me!" Her eyes were pleading, her breasts heaving, and her thighs were spread wide to receive his manhood.

"In...In public?" grunted Jorge, as he grasped a mighty penis already a foot in length, his trunks would be torn asunder in a moment more. Shelly only implored him with forlorn eyes, jiggling tits, and dripping pussy.

"Your penis will only grow larger! By Neptune you *must* get it inside me! I implore you!"

"BIIIIIIIITCH!!"he shouted as he tackled her, his rod shooting into her depths, his ass flexed and throbbed as he ground his crotch against her moist sex. Fires of lust overwhelming him, he tore at her bikini top, reveling in the glory of her tits. Even through the haze of his ecstasy, Jorge knew this was wrong; his cock was well over a foot in length, he felt it....but...the slutty nymph took it all; all of his throbbing organ.

And he kept growing; far past the dimensions of humanity or normal livestock, yet it was no trouble to her. Shellie wrapped herself around his meat with no more trouble than a human women taking 8 inches of cock inside herself. Yet...she wasn't that big; where was it all going? He felt his cock continuing to grow; there was no way this...or any girl could take a man as big as Jorge was becoming, yet she did. With no trouble. Though her face was contorted in a rictus of passion, that passion seemed to wholly pleasure.

"Yes...nearing...the Veil..." she murmured, as the human suckled her golden aureoles and nipples. He was rewarded with spurts of flowery-sweet breast milk jetting onto his tongue. It seemed....*NAAAUNG* with every....inch....*HNNUH* her teats....*GYEAAAHHH*! squirted again! Whatever was happening, Jorge had never seen any women except...well...except a Fae enjoy sex this much. The water nymph seemed to be loosing control; her breasts ballooning inches...cup-sizes, growing to keep pace with his cock...filling with milk, expressing it with each thrust in ivory rivulets amidst throaty moans. 

Jorge wasn't sure how big he was; but when Shellie's breasts grew to be slightly larger than motorcycle helmets, he felt the change.

**********

The Land of Faerie was a magical realm, yet with magic came the possibility of pain with pleasure equally, or so Rayne had discovered. She was not sure what made her come to the beach that day; a vague premonition of hope perhaps. The nymph had a strange impression that something important was going to happen today. Hmm...she wondered if she should wear clothes?

Among the naiads of the Siren Isles, issues of that sort took on critical importance. Anything that might alter their plight was vital, however slim the hope. As usual, Rayne was sorry; she was sorry that her lusts, and the sexual lusts of her sister Sirens had caused the disasters of the past. Human legends would record the Sirens as vicious predators, using man's desires against him. It was so unfair! she sniffed. But nonetheless, the High Council of the United Fairy Kingdoms had made their decree; the water nymphs had become too dangerous; their lusts had caused so much destruction and chaos, that they were to be banished forever.

The Siren Isles were sealed away by potent magic; lost to the rest of Fairy, lost to the Universe. Rayne and her sisters were condemned to spend untold eons without the one thing they craved most. Human cocks. The small nymph was also sorry that their lusts had led them into a sort of madness over the centuries. Most Sirens found that they could not accept the prospect of an eternity without sex, without men. So they denied their situation. They convinced themselves that while they might be sealed away, it would be possible to invoke men to come to them, if only they could become sexy enough. They would not accept that the Ban was permanent, and no Siren caught within it could breach it from the inside.

Yet still, it seemed cruel to deny hope to her sisters, (as if they would listen to her anyway) and the sirens had spent their eons divided according to a variety of theories about what practices might compel men to arrive on their islands.

"Men....crave women with wide....firm hips...for breeding!" snarled an especially busty siren, the current leader of the Voluptuaries

"NOOO!" shrieked a wispier, thinner nymph facing off with her opponent, apparently about to wrestle. "Women...should be slender...and fair...Men want delicate women of true beauty!" She replied, the second nymph the current leader of the Waif society.

"Liar!" shouted the Voluptuary. "With wide hips....and heavy breasts....a man will know that you are ripe for breeding, ripe to bear his young! He will lust for you! And men will come!! They shall come at last to the Siren Isles!!" with that there was a throaty cry of hopeful triumph from the Voluptuary supporters.

Rayne had lost all hope, long ago, but she knew that her sisters had been revitalized by the idea that they might seduce men from beyond the Stars, lure them to come to the Siren Isles, and finally fill the long-vacant cunts here with the cocks and cum more precious than life itself. Any practice, and idea that might bring men to the Islands was worth fighting for.

There were rumors, whispered rumors that some of the other islands had received men in recent years, but if so they weren't sharing, and Rayne no longer believed such tales.

"Only when *ALL* sirens are slender creatures of graceful beauty will Men come, Men to fill us with their Sacred Rods, Men to love us, Men that will impregnate us!" and with that cry, all the Sirens, (including Rayne) quivered with furtive yearning.

But while Rayne was among the smallest, and the weakest of the nymphs, she believed herself to be among the most sensible, and she suspected that their might be different sorts of men that like different sorts of women; she herself had flirted with all the Parties upon the Isles. She shrugged; let them wrestle each other. As the heaving bodies of the water nymphs collided in the sand , amidst the cheers of their supporters, it took only seconds for the conflict to dissolve into mutual masturbation; each Siren thrusting, grinding herself against the flesh of her opponent, struggling for orgasm.

And Rayne wandered her island, searching for...she knew not what...she encountered others, more ways to pass the eons, more ways to bring the hope of men, and sex back to the islands. The palm trees on the hill where filled with naiads all engaged in a gigantic strip-tease. Some of her kind believing that constant nudity causes men to grow bored over time, and that Sirens must garb themselves, that men might have the pleasure of watching them strip, so that men might come, and impregnate them at long last. These nymphs writhed and slithered up and down the tree-trunks, gradually shedding wispy veils of clothing while groaning with lust.

There were those that occupied themselves completely with song; there on the hills atop the island naked nymphs raised up glistening arms as they sang songs of haunting beauty to the starry heavens, so that men might come, and impregnate them at long last. And then, there were some that tried to distract themselves, ceasing to believe that men would ever arrive. On the south ridge several of the more creative sirens busied themselves with more constructive labors; the Craftsluts spend eons trying to construct the most realistic dildos possible. With only sand, leaves, and dirt to work with, their efforts seemed doomed. But as Rayne watched approvingly, she beheld that they had indeed made cunning progress over the eons. Centuries of labor had culminated in lovingly-crafted sex-toys in nearly the exact image of an penis, of impressive elasticity and firmness, with balls attached. They still could not quite perfect the color, but through the years, some of them had been able to create dildoes that truly spurted white cream so close to real sperm....so close... 




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 03



"Please! Give my pussy another chance!!" pleaded Viviana, her naked legs splayed wide in front of her. The changes were happening faster now, to the busty latina, she could not change fast enough. The lower lips of her pussy opened wide, quivering with a life of their own, and the urgency reflected in her sopping wet cunt was no less elegant than the impassioned pleas from Viviana's mouth.

The Greenhouse was getting warmer; it must be from the bodies. The bodies of the women churning over each other with sexual yearning; pleading for Her favor. The favor of the one that had brought them here; the one that had made them what they were. Caeciliiyanali reclined in luxuriant, pregnant splendour. Thick leaves and blossoms cushioned her fecund frame upon a verdant throne of vegetation. She had discarded all clothing; the hypocrisy of it all! For years while she denied her true sluthood, the male co-workers that mocked her still tried to see down her blouse, or look up her skirt. What foolishness to indulge in the deceit of clothing! From now on, the elf's ample breasts were there for all to see. Ripe globes as grandiose as helium balloons, capped by golden aureoles as wide as saucers, topped by her thimble-nipples. Any human who wished could now fondle, kiss, or suckle these breasts without restriction.

The naked elf spread her legs again; with no skirt all people, humans or fae could gaze upon the moist folds of her cunt. And now, there was no mockery, there were no snickers. The humans she had implanted now worshipped her. That was a funny thing about magic; Cecilia had met prudish, snobbish human women that claimed they would never be vulnerable to the lust spells, fertility potions, and Amulets of Erotica that were used as aphrodisiacs so commonly these days. But the magic was only aggravated by repressed desire, and personal preferences could be transformed as easily as the sizes of...of...those thingies...you know...those lacy cup thingies that human women would....oh never mind; Cecilia forgot the word.

Humans determined to resist their baser urges often had their resolve turned against them; their strength of will channeled into a lust sometimes greater than that of the most wanton stripper. So it was with Cecilia's new 'charges'. The satisfaction they might have gained from resisting her fertility powers was nothing compared to the bliss they received from giving in. And so they pleaded, begged her for more!

"The irony...." purred the naked elf, rubbing the gravid dome of her ripe pregnancy. "Me...of all people....forced to instruct humans on the virtue of patience..." she laughed musically. "You, dear Viviana have done quite well for yourself. Even now your womb is ripening, and your breasts have been milking for some time now. You have less than an hour." said the elf in a voice of liquid seduction, her words laden with hidden potential.

"Please...help me...I want to be there....get there faster!" pleaded the human, as she brushed aside a strand of her raven-black hair, turning green at the roots. The red-haired elf rolled her eyes, sighed and motioned the human forward.

It was unnecessary; but Viviana so wanted to please her new mistress. She suspected that the elf possessed knowledge of new pleasures, new transformations that she might reveal. Her finger grazed the elf's erect clit, and then buried itself in the fae's lubricating pussy. A few more orgasms...and she might become Cecilia's favorite!!

The First Wave hit as Viviana's tongue licked frantically at the G-spot of the pregnant elf. The human's mind collapsing into a feral cauldron of mating instinct, she jerked and began clutching her belly, occasionally teasing the turgid ripeness of her engorged, naked nipples. Cecilia cradled the human, and lay her upon a large, rectangular planter filled with fresh, moist soil. She kissed the gurgling woman on her forehead. So consumed was she with the unearthly ecstasy searing through her veins, Viviana barely noticed the green, leafy sprig and flower bud that emerged from the lower lips of her ripe cunt. Delicate eyebrows arched at this manifest example of the rapid progress the human was making, on behalf of the enchanted, forbidden seeds she had been impregnated with.

"Perhaps sooner than I anticipated...." Caeciliiyanali chuckled darkly, then beckoned over several nude, sex-obsessed human females.

**********

It was difficult to remember how it all happened. When Fae became truly excited; truly lost in the glee that came with their magical natures, the mind suffered, and it took Lily several moments for the reality of her situation to seep in. Before the Conjunction, most local police precincts had what was called a 'Drunk Tank', to temporarily hold unruly revelers during alcoholic intoxication. These days, such facilities had been converted to contain and suppress the Fae.

Lily was not alone here; yes...the large cell also contained Cori and Lisa, the students she came with....there was a Dark Elf whining in the corner about the Stygian clutches of human law, or something...Lily knew her in passing, she seemed almost as distraught as the water nymph nervously, futiley wringing out her blue hair.

The humans had planned well; the cell was iron laid over iron. A large rug in the center allowed the Fae to sit huddled, without having to expose their vulnerable, fae flesh to the touch of terrible, cold iron. The hallway immediately outside the cell was covered in an iron layer, and not only that; the iron had been cast into arcane wards. Though iron naturally suppressed magic, in the event that somehow, magic was used to penetrate the cell, the wards would further restrict it. No normal Fae had any hope of escape. 

Lily rose, remembering the events that led her here. She had become desire, become passion itself. The Infinite Beauty spell was successful; a mighty, reality-warping charm that no spell-caster, Fae or human had attempted in 3,000 years. Everyone that gazed upon her after completion of the spell, even from afar saw a creature more wonderously erotic than anything they had ever imagined. Each human mind upon the main highway, and on the beach itself, lifeguards, commuters, and police as well; their minds were consumed with desire. Each mind's full capacity for desire and appreciation was compelled. The hungry swarm of humans craved Lily's merest touch more than they craved life, health, even their own sanity. Each human, male and female alike, tore off clothing, abandoned active vehicles, willing to sacrifice anything and everything for physical contact with the forest-nymph goddess. And goddess she was; for reasons not well understood by magical theorists, some people, many of them Fae occasionally became sources of magic in their own right. Many people of both races could summon magic; but Lily had become it, she was a source of it. Her very presence exuded magical fertility on a scale never seen since the Bronze Age.

The memories flooded back; robe thrown open, sunlight glistening upon the tanned glory of her radiant, enchanted nudity. Quicker than she hoped, the humans arrived, and began to paw her, yet it seemed nonetheless an eternity of anticipation between that time, and when the humans first noticed her, first began gurgling with yearning, first began to violently shed themselves of the fabric of civilization. Shoes, shirts, panties, bras, were cast off by the scrambling humans, as they charged her. A mixture of glee and fanaticism warring on their faces. Penises bounced, breasts jiggled as her lovers struggled for her touch. Her new goddess-powers enabled her to sense the libidoes, the desires of living things; and each weary commuter, each lifeguard, each college-student, each shop-owner seemed to ignite with a sexual flame long dampened by the needs of society.

But there was a method to her madness; Lily did not simply want to be fawned over for the sake of ego; she had come here to fulfill her maximum potential as a fertility goddess. The powers did not last; while various ancient deities might be worshipped for eons, the length of time such powers might continue was random. While she was the goddess of fertility, she had to attempt to reawaken human sexuality. So many people put aside reproduction for their careers; now Lily had a chance to change that, to make a difference. 

Her naked pussy throbbed with a primal desire; the need of all nymphs to increase life, regardless of consequences. While she had the power, she would cause as many pregnancies as possible. Yes, no doubt she too would bear a hefty litter of young, for she had gone on Spring Break fully intending to breed with a potent, young stud. To feel the heady sensation of a spurting penis seeding her supernatural womb with the next generation. Yet one womb was not enough; let the humans plant as many offspring as they liked within the moist folds of her feminine core, but she needed a larger pool from which to draw!

Hands groped her, pawing clutching at her pliant boobs, both as large and ripe as melons. Tongues licked at her hands, her thighs, finger dug into her pussy, prompting a yelp of glee. The enchanted academic was confronted by a writhing wall of pursed lips, men and women struggling to suck from her breasts. They were smart enough to know that almost all Fae could lactate when aroused, and the notion of Lily's breastmilk spurting into their hungry mouths was a victory they would sell their souls for. She could not nurture them all, because there was too much competition, as soon as a pair of lips could suckle her, they were pulled away for another to have her chance. But Lily had planned for this; she knew what to do.

It was not for her vanity alone that she did this; there was a greater, primal need. Most Fae concerned themseles solely with the business of population growth: which meant using a variety of ways to convince humans to have sex with them, but a Nymph had to be better than that. Reclining on the ground, her breasts inflating with fertility magic, her ample bosoms swelled with productivity. Lily's designs extended far beyond merely seducing her inexperienced, male undergraduate students. As satisfying as it was to feel the strength of a youthful cock jetting its sperm up inside her prolific sanctum, the future did not belong only to her and the half-human children that resulted from her reproductive adventures. She wanted all humans to breed; Forest nymphs derived a deep-rooted ecstasy from the reproduction of other living creatures to the extent of their involvement. Most wanted nothing so much as to roam the Earth, swelling with offspring while compelling others to breed. Life itself, and the procreation thereof, was her highest goal, and now that she'd been granted Goddess-magic she would push those powers to their fullest.

So she reminded herself of the need to unleash the dormant lusts of the older humans, many of them still possessed fine sexual organs; and they would use them to their fullest extent. Laying back on the sand amidst the groping hands, pussies, and penises, Lily opened up the floodgates of her fertility. Like a geyser of womanly production, her pink nipples erupted in quick bursts of magical milk. Kneading, milking her own boobs as they built up in size at least a whole handspan, she took some of the heat off herself by spraying her would-be suitors, bombarding them with yet more magic. A caress upon the thigh of a naked business woman with a prominent nose, and a current of libido-magic was sent into her body. A bearded, naked man felt Lily give his penis a tender lick, and was by a powerful burst of condensed lust. The magic swept over the gathering throng like a wave of electricity; and the human found each other. 

The humans, formerly distracted by jobs, careers, marriages, children could let loose, embrace each other and couple with total freedom. The beefy, balding bartender could savor the tight, sleek body of the strawberry-blond, young attorney. While the shy, flat-chested girl who worked in a mailroom could cackle with maniacal glee as the male model here from Sweden on a photoshoot drilled his meat inside her virgin cunt. Quickly, Lily sucked a stray cock to orgasm, slurping down every gush of sweet syrup, (sweet to a forest nymph) Then rising, she roamed among her enchanted charges. Sometimes she would stick a finger into her moist, drooling pussy and plant her wetness upon the ass or crotch of nude, moaning woman, to increase her lust. Other times, the bouncing beauty of her milking tits was sprinkled upon the backs of men, grunting with the exertion of their coitus; her milk's nourishment magic increasing their stamina.

By far, this was without doubt her most successful orgy ever; already....hmm...almost ten times as large as what she'd started at that beach party earlier. She began to hurry, making the rounds through the tangled mass of mating, grunting, sweating, ejaculating, breast-sucking humans, each spurt of her milk enabling a man to last just a little longer; her pussy juice driving each woman more insane with lust. At least, that was the plan.

But Fae, so wrapped up in pleasures, instinct, and frivolity, often neglect more practical concerns. Like the cascading traffic jam. Which grew, and grew. Not to mention the fender benders, as humans beheld Lily's infinite beauty, and abandoned their still-active vehicles. Lily was spraying her rich milk onto a big, black football player as he thrust himself into a middle-aged, blond librarian when she heard them. The sirens, the bullhorns, the black helicopters...all for her! It was rather impressive until the tranquilizer darts. That must have been it. 

**********

Her processing must have taken a long time, because she was still in the back of a large paddy-wagon when she awoke; handcuffed, fully-clad in an orange prison-suit (not a bad color, but they showed no skin!) And her nipples ached; nearby was a locked container attached to suction cups; damn! The humans had used a breast-pump against her to make her more manageable! They'd also rounded up several other fae from the beach, all undergrads from Madison University as well. Lily's rose, which permanently grew from her scalp, curled up into a bud and slithered back under her hairline to reflect her disappointment. Lisa the pixie was sobbing into the shoulder of a grim police-officer, rubbing her forehead and perky little antennae against his shoulder amidst her cries for mercy. The dour male human was unmoved.

Apparently, there was quite a bit of confusion about what to do with them; the Fae-codes were convoluted and complicated; with over-lapping responsibilities for multiple agencies that sometimes contradicted themselves. Until the humans figured out their own laws, Lily and her associates were given to a local precinct, and confined to the 'Fae-Tank'. Apparently, they used to keep drunkards here during the 20th century to sleep off their intoxication. But now, it was iron overlaid with iron to contain the Fae. Not only iron, the panels were carved with anti-magic runes to further suppress any spells cast at them. For all her powers, Lily could not penetrate them. She struggled to focus her magic against the bars and iron walls, but despite her new powers, the iron sucked up everything she threw at it. Nor could the younger Fae do better.

Cori the Unicorn (who preferred a humanoid shape) was here, rubbing her nipples nervously. Beside her was Lisa, the pink-haired, bikini-clad pixie. There were three others that Lily knew only in passing; Shelly was a tall, statuesque water-nymph, wringing out her wet, blue hair in anxiety. Her close friend was the dark elf Morganna; bemoaning her impending sacrifice upon the mechanical altar of human legal oppression. What a ham. Lastly, there was a silver-haired fae whose nature was not immediately apparent; hmm...faint traces of flickering sparkles reflected from beneath her porcelein skin, must be a mermaid in terrestrial shape. Her legs twitched uneasily, suggesting that the buxom fairy was more accustomed to a fishes' tail. She looked more angry than worried; and all could detect the boiling-point tension of sexual frustration. Further away was another cell which contained only a sleeping, silver-bearded satyr wearing the remnants of a ruffled tuxedo. 

"Our magic cannot penetrate these cold, iron bars!" Lamented Shelly. Dripping with her water-nymph sweat. "Perhaps...perhaps we might seduce the officer on duty guarding us?" she wondered. The authorities had made a critical error in covering up her nudity with a white T-shirt. They must not recognize water nymphs. Shelly's body exuded an everlasting layer of dripping, fairy sweat, saturating her lush curves with sparkling moisture at all times. Very soon, the flimsy fabric became all but transparent as it clung plastered to the swelling curves of Shelly's supernaturally voluptuous flesh. The silver-haired mermaid that Lily didn't know very well began emanating a sound that was half-groan, and half snarl. 

"Guard....seduce the guard...hrrrrh...." gurgled the mermaid, thrusting a hand over her crotch as her hips quivered. Lily pursed her lips; naturally-aquatic Fae didn't always get along with their terrestrial cousins. Mermaids were known for undergoing a powerful estrus with aggressive tendencies. When they felt ready to breed, any delay or hesistation could drive a mermaid to an almost predatory hunger. While many land-bound Fae felt merely an irresistable, euphoric urge to submit to almost any sexual advance, the fairies of the seas were not always content to wait for a sexual advance. Mermaids and Water Nymphs were most likely of all Fae to abduct human males as breeding stock. (Though such practices certainly weren't unheard of among pixies!) With so few available men beneath the sea, extreme measures seemed necessary. Lily couldn't help but wonder how many ancient, unexplained nautical disasters over the centuries could be easily accounted for. "Men...seduce them..." she moaned, clutching her moist sex.


"I don't think so." lamented Cori, the blond unicorn-girl. Farther down the hallway was their guard. So ugly, so bloated was the human that it was not immediately apparent whether the pudgy form was male or female. Hmm...the bosom and hair-bun were most like that of a woman. But she was as unattractive as she was angry. They had all seen her kind; glaring at them from her black, beady eyes. All the Fae had seen that look. The officer exuded anger, bitterness, and Fae-hate. A man might quickly assume that she was some hardened, lesbian dyke or something. But the experienced eye of Cori the Fae slut could tell that this human was most likely anti-sexual. The very suggestion of a romantic interlude would most likely earn you a sharp punch. The human was tall, and no doubt possessed considerable muscle beneath her unappealing fat; more than enough to subdue unruly drunks, or flirty fae. Her gaze towards the luscious creatures of Legend was full of nothing but disdain.

"Don't worry; I'll get us out." announced Lisa, unfurling her antennae, and adjusting the bottom of her bikini. The others stared at her questioningly.

"The Ring."

**********

Wasted. That was how Viviana now viewed the past 20 years of her life. Wasted with shy, anxious flirtation. She now knew that men were to be enjoyed. All men. They were walking hunks of carnal pleasure, and she had been impossibly foolish to cling to the unnatural notions of propriety, dignity, and morality. Her lusts commanded her now, and they told her to spread her legs. Before, merely a week ago, the thought of grabbing a handsome stud from off the street and dragging him off to a nameless hotel room where she screwed him senseless would have been abhorent. 

But she had been rewarded for her lifestyle reversal. Nude, she caressed her body while studying her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had always been worried about her butt. In high-school, a cute boyfriend had abandoned her over a girl with a huge ass. But now, ever since she'd started carrying the Seeds, the Seeds that Cecilia the elf had impregnated her with, all that was over. Her rump had gained a good 5 inches, jutting out behind her like a bulging shelf above her more toned legs; now having gained almost perfect, statuesque musculature. She was taller now too. She had always wanted to be just a little taller, with a bigger ass. And the changes had given her the body she'd always dreamed of having! She even liked the green eyes.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 03



"Hrruhnn...." Ah, her paramour was awakening. She'd rode him like no woman he'd ever met. And they had both been surprised at the amount of sperm she'd been able to coax from him. The blond brute was also changing; apparently he'd been some beefy, football player, but today he seemed yet more muscled, a veritable mass of chiseled perfection, and his chin was straighter. He too, had apparently been granted the body he'd always wanted. A contended tingle rippled through her belly, flushing her mind with happiness. The Seeds were happy; she was making progress. More sperm, always more sperm! All she had to do was participate in the life-cycle of some strange plant the Elf had taken from Faerie.

"The body of my dreams..." she whispered in wonder, breasts gleaming in the light of the rising sun.

"Nnnurrhr...body....breast....cunt....woman....
rrrrrrn..." snarled her lover as he lurched forward; it was clear that he too, had been granted the same lifestyle epiphany as Viviana had. Though, she was unsure what role he would play in the lifecycle of the Seeds she'd been planted with. Well, it would probably involve finding a woman, and ejaculating into her pussy.

"If this is a disease, keep me away from the cure!" she giggled.

**********

Violet was truly worried about the silly, slutty mermaid she'd come to Panama City with. She didn't like many Fae, but the busty, horny mermaid had come to be her best friend, and she was worried that she might miss the competition. Only 45 minutes! Where was she!! Violet paced around the backstage area, where pre-performance jitters ruled the day. It was an awesome crop of womanhood gathered around her. The Bosom Builders were almost evenly divided between Fae, and human women. Most of the Fae were forest nymphs, their natural fertility a great aid for the breast-magic. But Fae could not dominate exclusively, because success required quite a bit of discipline, which few Fae could manage.

The competition would begin soon, but there was still time for a girl to hone her talents. There were secrets to Bosom-Building, secrets for maximum control of a girl's breasts. Far from frivolous, in a world of Orgy spells and Potions of Infinite Lactation not a few girls desiring only to add a few inches wound up with uncontrollable udders that would have branded them sex-freaks back in the 20th century. Racecars were much the same way; those competitions helped automotive engineers solve technical problems with application in civilian vehicles. So it was with Violet's competitions. Women of Preposterous Endowment needed special techniques not only to remain mobile with breasts the size of basketballs, but to gain the ability to truly control her breast-size to match the occasion.

There were tricks to the trade, that Violet knew, and other tricks that were less common knowledge. The tanned, statuesquely-muscled girl adjusted her bikini, with the little button labeled '#19' She gulped, trying to contain the throbbing fires of her tingling lust. That was the hardest part; fertility magic existed for the purpose of causing sex and procreation. Denying her lusts only made that magic stronger, more insistent. It was like caging a wild bull; then poking him. He would become enraged and furious, and become even more aggressive upon release. But truly, Violet compared her breasts to Tigresses in heat, caged by her...her....*gulp* month of celibacy! Flat-chesters could never truly appreciate what a sacrifice that was for a Preposterously Endowed woman.

But there were other secrets, not known to the majority of Contenders, which Violet reflected on as she casually watched a lithe elf try a few 'stretches' before the competition. The elf, like many Fae tried to enlarge her bouncing boobs as often, and as large as possible, hoping that might increase her natural size. Brushing aside her golden locks, the elf gritted her teeth as her mammaries began their motion. (bad form! A Pro had to maintain a smile at all times!!) Like many Fae, her breasts began naturally at a size similar to that of a 20th century porn-star, a diameter much like that of a saucer-plate, in moments the edges of her golden aureolas could be seen through the strings of her green bikini, expanding and spreading like a stain of pure fertility across the tremulous terrain of wobbling tit which expanded from the elf's chest to the length of a teaspoon. The Bosom-Building elf forced a smile onto her porcelein face as her boobs progressed downwards, flowing outwards on a path of feminine potential, eventually growing until they were merely four inches above her navel. Like an eagle parting its wings, the smooth globes spread outwards, the girth of each teat blossoming in perfect symmetry, darkening the center of her chest with an ever-sharpening valley of cleavage. Where once the size of the elf's tits could be compared to mere fruits, oranges, grapefruits, then larger into melon size, now the fairy creature's feminine hemispheres were roughly the same size as elementary school dodgeballs. She jiggled and caressed her mounds, testing them for buoyancy and consistency.

Amateur. The standards for the Collegiate circuit must be getting lower. Violet chuckled. She had a better way. It was called by some, the 'oops' factor. Women with Preposterous Bosoms often made the mistake of trying to use more magic to correct magic. The potions and spells found on E-bay these days claimed to be able to shrink down uncontrollable breasts, to make them manageable. But in the end, the effects backfired. Attempts to suppress the magic of life and procreation, the magic of the timeless reproductive imperative- only made the magic stronger. When suppressed, the magic became more urgent, more potent. 

So, a few Bosom-Builders learned to use that effect; Violet's tits were at this point only....only...NNNHH...a D-cup! Using masterful vascular control, she kept her breasts only a little larger than softballs. It hurt, it was uncomfortable, but it made the magic more desperate. When she finally let loose, her bosoms would rocket outwards with dramatic power, her maximum size would wow the Judges! The only obstacle would be to control the suddden influx of hormonal lust. The tanned, muscular human paced a bit through the back-stage area; it was not unheard of for leading Bosom-Builders to become so aroused by the magic forces flowing through them that they simply attacked the nearest male; unable to keep from jumping his bones, thereby forfeiting the competition. The New Woman, the woman of the magical future had to maintain dignity and control, despite having the libido of a kennel of bitches in heat. No, Fae did not dominate any such competition requiring the amount of willpower and discipline Bosom-Building did. Their magical powers made training easy, but Fae lust was often too powerful for them to ever tame.

Violet noticed an open dressing room door, inside she heard slurping, and grunting. Oh boy! Here was one Fae she could do without; Titaniera, a pixie once of great importance back on Faerie. (Titty to her friends) She was dominating the Collegiate circuits; and despite a lingering cloud of ethics allegations, there was no doubt she would soon dominate the Professional circuits as well. Many pixies were starting to realize the potential they could possess in the Sport. While normally just a few inches tall; pixies were masters of size-altering magic, and could attain a human's stature easily. When they did so, as Titty did now, they could be of danger to human males, their lusts were potent, and their spells difficult to reverse.

Well, the man in her dressing room was quite willing to take the risk. The pixie's eyes glowed green as she gazed upon the well-dressed, well-groomed, business man. Some Fae seemed to have an overwhelming seduction power apart from their luscious figures. Supposedly, only the oldest, most powerful Fae had this power. Violet gulped; she wasn't sure how old Titty was, there was no way to be sure, since in appearance she looked very much like a Saloon-groomed, world-class supermodel in her teen years, only more voluptuous. Genetic studies on the aging process in Fae species proved inconclusive.

What was not inconclusive was the groaning, slurping and moaning that came from Titty getting orally pleasured by the enraptured human. He slurped away gleefully at the engorged lips of her wet twat. Whatever spell Titty might have put on him, the dark-haired, clean-shaven young executive didn't even want to resist. How could she do this before a competition! She needs to restrain her sexual urges! All Bosom-Builders know that! Controlling the urges made the magic more powerful! Most Fae gave up sex at least two weeks before a competition. Humans could go for longer without sex.

"SHLURNKLE!" The dark-haired businessman was really eating her out. The human struggled to drive his tongue ever deeper into the sopping wet, labial lips of the fae female. She cooed with pleasure; purple eyes closing in ecstasy. He used his teeth to graze the hardened nub of her engorged clit, while that tongue...ever probing, ever twisting. As Titty leaned back against her dresser panting with lust, even Violet could see the spasms as the pixie's pussy gushed with a sluice of her tangy girl-cum.

Was this how they did things in San Francisco? The Pixie's adopted hometown? Fae were changing society there, making great inroads. The whole state was a perfect breeding ground for legions of Fairy folk, both the culture and climate combined into a truly prolific mix. Warmth, freedom, and human sperm, the recipe for a fae explosion. The birthrates among Californian pixies and nymphs was twice the national average. Right now, the front-runner for the Governorship was a crafty, cunning old satyr. From the wombs of women to the halls of Power, it seemed like the whole state was about to grow little gossammer wings and fly away. Violet thought it better to avoid the place.

Could Titty be so arrogant, so confident that she could make such an error? Was she so assured of victory that she would ignore proper performance training? Or was there something....sinister...something suspicious going on?

**********

It shouldn't have worked. At least, all the Fae expected the spell to fail. The Ring did have great power, but there was just too much iron here. Cold iron dampened and absorbed magic, aside from being toxic to fae physiology. They weren't sure what Lisa had in mind, but even with the concentrated power of all their magic, there seemed no hope of escape. The Ring was a magical ritual, a way to create erotic charms of magnificent power; enough capable Fae performing the Ring could turn back armies. And had done so. Ancient enemies of the Fae had been reduced to helpless, masturbating sex-slaves when the incantation was done properly. But there were limits; even for a spell that powerful. There should be enough iron in the 'Fae-Tank' to foil their best efforts.

"Well? Don't just stand there, get those bikinis off! I'll need a lot of help!!" ordered Lisa, removing her sunglasses and undoing the straps that held her wobbling tits.

"Unnhhh...." The silver-bearded satyr in a nearby cell began to moan, talking in his sleep. "Helllp...yes...that's all....I was...hmm....just helping those girls check....for breast cancer....*snore*"

"I...We all like the Ring just fine but, with all this iron, there's just no way to affect-" Lily's worried discourse was disrupted by Lisa's giggle, as she began tearing at the forest nymph's unsightly orange prison suit, revealing the nubile breasts of the educated Fae.

"You're about to learn something, Professor Lily!" said the Pink-haired pixie excitedly, as she eagerly stripped the fabric away from the fertile form of the nymph.

"Hrrnhh...*snort* My intentions...." The satyr mumbled again in his sleep. "My intentions towards your daughter.....hmmmmm....completely honorable...."

"Hm..I don't think it will work but...if Lisa wants to...." agreed Cori, hesitantly. The mermaid, whose name seemed to be Marina snarled, looking upset.

"I don't need the Ring! I want men! Men and cocks!" she fingered her cunt, eyelids fluttering. "What's wrong with those policemen! Arresting me just when I was about to score! Can't they see...how fertile I am?" Her breasts heaved, and she began yanking at the white T-shirt they'd saddled her with to cover her indecent nudity. "Don't those humans know that I need a mate? A hard cock inside me? Can't they see how ripe my pussy is?" The lips of said pussy began to throb, as her mating musk wafted through the air. "All I want is their sperm! Is that so much to ask!? The mermaids are dying out as a species! I need a human male to claim me; impregnate me! In there...." she gestured towards the work areas of the precinct. "Full of healthy, human men! What's wrong with them! They don't see me? They missed my sopping wet pussy?" In answer to the mermaids' frustration, Shelly the water nymph grasped her hips, and stuck her tongue in the other fae's already receptive cunt.

"Looks like...*SLURP*....Marina's ready...*MSLUP* to get the Ring started. "SLUCK*

"One last moment of carnal bliss; before our iron-clad martyrdom to the uncaring indifference of the Scales of Injustice!" proclaimed Morganna, dropping her bikini bottom to expose her dark, dark pussy as a hand as graceful as an obsidian icicle hid her face, as though to shield her gaze from the impending doom of the human legal code. What a ham.

And so it was. Lisa had to keep her mouth free to chant the incantation, but she plunged three fingers into the wet pussy of Shelly, dripping with arousal as the water nymph squated on hands and knees above the pussy of her friend, the dark elf Morganna, the elf's smooth skin as dark as black onyx dipped in obsidian ink. The elf lay flat on her back, beneath the womb of Lily, naked and horny, squatting above the elf's silver-white hair as she placed the lips of her labia before Morganna's writhing tongue. With her arousal, the Rose that grew naturally from her scalp re-emerged, slithering back above her green hairline, and blossomed once more. Lily felt it important to comfort the horny, angry mermaid. (She certainly appreciated the frustration from human males stingy with their sperm when her womb was receptive!)

"Cori, it's time." said Lisa.

"The Horn Trick?" asked the blond girl.

"The Horn Trick." confirmed the pixie.

The casual observer couldn't really be sure exactly what species Cori was. At first, her blond hair might give the impression that she was an elf of some sort; yet her heart-shaped, soft face was much like that of many forest nymphs. Few knew what to think about the strange, golden sunburst birthmark on her forehead, and most people flipped out when they saw her hooves...yes hooves, though horizontal, giving her feet a shape very much like that of a woman wearing slippers. The blond tail bobbing above her ass tickled Marina as the mermaid tried to lick the Unicorn's cunt. All unicorns, apparently had the ability to change shape; and Corona, Unicorn of the Elysian Fields exclusively preferred the shape of a human girl. She was part of the new generation of Urban Unicorns; and she preferred human studs.

The sunburst birthmark began to glow, and extend, becoming a golden bump. That nub lengthened, twisted, and sharpened. A spiraling, golden horn nearly ten inches long sprouted from the girl's forehead. It was a little known secret, but Unicorn horns made spectacular dildos. Yes, the horn was sharp, and should be capable of inflicting painful wounds, yet it contained intense healing magic. Cori could stab with it, and heal the wound as soon as it formed. When deep inside a cunt, such as Lisa's, the effect was a spectacular wave of painful pleasure unlike anything else.

The Ring spell gathered up the sexual energies of the participants, magnified them, and projected them into a wave of raw sensuality that could bring armies to their knees. The Fae had bested many strange and powerful monsters from mythical eons with this power, now they were hoping that the Ring would defeat these dour, iron-clad human policemen, with their impossible web of mind-numbing laws.

"You disgusting sluts...quiet down or I'll take a fire-extinguisher to ya!" snarled the vile, bloated female officer.

"Hmmmm....why no..." murmured the silver-haired satyr sleeping in a nearby cell. "No...I don't think the baby looks like me....hmmmrhhhh...." 

"You too, Horn-boy!"

"*Snore*"

The Ring magic swept up the orgasms. Each time Cori felt her body clench with climax, the energy was sucked away into Lisa. Marina snarled with passion, trying to convince herself that Lily's cunnilingual probings were really the thrusts of a human male that had claimed her, determined to plant his offspring into her hungry womb. Shelly gasped as her orgasms vanished before the began. Morganna gurgled as a wave of their collective sexual energy swept over the Fae in a regular fashion. The Wave gathering up more, and more, and more of their arousal, into Lisa, the Apex of the Ring.

It was not an easy task; an inexperienced Fae could not handle the concentrated sexuality without collapsing into a giggling, masturbating heap of girl-flesh as the orgasms played out inside her pussy. Lily was not totally positive *she* could handle such power, without spewing milk and girl-cum every which way.

"Almost..." thought Lisa..."So close...." Sparkles of magic began to fill the air, far fewer than would otherwise be present, due to the iron surrounding them. The spell should fail. The mythical sluts eating each other out fully expected failure. Too much iron, just too much.

"*Snore*....hrrrnh...hhhuh...Why, of course I love you for your mind..." murmured the sleeping satyr.

"Sluts! Ah've had enough of this..." snarled the warty, burly, fae-hating guard; rising from a chair and preparing to approach.

"YES!!!" Lisa's eyes glowed.

**********

Officer Brian McMurphy prided himself on his maturity. All this magic, all these ridiculous, big-titted Fae didn't faze him. He was a serious, disciplined policeman, and as he prepared the inter-agency file on that weird beach-side magic orgy incident, he couldn't help but wonder when these fairy-tale sluts would wake up and join the real world? Not that it much mattered to him; he was more interested in *real* women, like Suzie from Dispatch, there at her desk. Suzie was a good, decent, human woman. She had a pleasant, auburn mop of hair long enough to be feminine, yet short enough to practical. Her freckles and dimpled face were endearing, and comforting. And well, her nice apple-sized breasts were all he really needed. Those Fae creatures had a shocking, sculpted beauty with ludicrous curves that were so over-voluptuous as to be cartoonish. Well, a very perverted cartoon. He didn't need....hey...what was that...those sparkles...why were little sparkling motes appearing in the air? And why were tiny little rainbow-colored sparkles flashing all over his clothing what did... Even those outside the precinct building could see the brilliant flashes of rainbow-light that poured out of every window. Had anyone been listening closely at a window, more embarrasing sounds would have been audible within the building. 

In a way, it was fortunate the Suzie from Dispatch had tackled Brian McMurphy, slamming into his body like an estrogen-fueled ballistic missle on her way to an explosion of eroticism. Had she not slammed into him, her inertia carrying McMurphy to the ground, he would attacked her, rending her bra and clothing like a shark tearing into fresh chum. As it was, their impending coupling was slowed down by their frantic, mutual struggle to each be the aggressor. Brian grunted into her bosom, trying to push her onto the ground even as she was trying to straddle him. It was brute strength that won out, and over several seconds, Officer McMurphy forced Suzie to the ground, and impaled her femalia upon his raging cock. (was it getting longer?)




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 03



Suzie from Dispatch would have been just as happy to pin him to the ground, and plunge her cunt down upon his erect rod. But she adapted; nearly squeezing the air from his lungs from the force she exerted with her legs, wrapped around his pelvis. Suzie didn't trust this man; she didn't trust most men. He might try to pull out of her without shooting a sufficient load of cum! She knew instinctively that one spurt would not be nearly enough. No matter how strong McMurphy was, she would *not* let his penis escape!! Really, it was lucky that Brian was walking by when the Orgy hit. He was unusually tall, and not too hairy, with the wiry muscles that she liked. His dark hair and goatee sent a dangerous thrill through her, and she'd always found his piercing, blue eyes to be especially pussy-moistening. But she'd never been sure how to approach him; he was always so serious and focused.

These days, magical orgies were a fact of life you just had to live with. They were like car accidents; it didn't happen everyday, but we're all at risk. Imagine. Imagine an alarm, an emergency. For Suzie and Brian, not to mention everyone else at the Precinct, it was as though all you held dear was about to go up in flames. The urgency, the passion that would result from such a tragedy was focused upon the rutting couple. Only in this case, the Fire was in their minds, and the emergency in their genitalia. Only within Suzie's cunt could the explosive heat be quenched. For Suzie, it was as though her sex was a forest being consumed by a 100-acre blaze, and she needed an emergency cock to quench her impossible lust.

Brian grunted as he spurted into her. It was not enough! He...he kept going. He tightened his grip around the Suzie's thighs as he thrusted. The female might think he was finished too quickly! He put his whole body; every muscle into the mating.

**********

Men needed a little push sometimes. Sara had the Captain pinned to his desk, jolts of pleasure coursing up her spine from the sensation of Joe's penis, completely encased in her female sheath.

"S-Sara...I'm...It's not...we shouldn't..." Men. Sometimes a woman had to take charge. Joe believed that just because he was her superior, 20 years older, and just because he'd been her father's partner, that they were unsuitable mates. Her familiarity was precisely why Sara had chosen Joe to father her young. Her long, sliky brown hair fluttered over his face as she lowered her head in exertion. She decided to stifle his murmurs by shoving her orange-sized breasts into his bearded mouth. **GLUMPH** She stretched her sinuous, naked body against his own, gripping his wrists as she wallowed upon his hairy flesh, his balding head gleaming in the flourescent light. Any further complaints he had would have to be filed with her breasts; now lodged firmly between Joe's lips. Tell it to the nipple.

That was the funny thing about magic; a disciplined, focused mind was not always a defense. Sometimes, as was the case with Sara, the intensity of her dedication could work against her. Sara's determined ambition to be the best detective she could be had been twisted by the magic, and now she was going to breed as efficiently, as effectively as possible. Magic was funny like that.

**********

Confusion. No one in the Fae-Tank understood at first; They could hear the shouts, the groans, the howling. It was as though a mass-orgy had gripped the police-officers, yet how could that be? None of their magic had penetrated the iron? But Lisa began giggling, and Cori remembered. The Pixie-dust! It could transfer magic! When Lisa was rubbing and sobbing on the shoulder of that cop, she was really coating him with her Dust; and the entire magic of the Ring spell had passed to that Officer, totally ignoring the iron!

There she was; their grossly over-weight, wart-faced, guard. Her porcine rolls of blubber shaking as she walked and...oh wait...something was wrong! That sagging, warty face was confused! She...she must have caught the back end of the Lustwave sitting so close to the non-iron door! But still, the incarcerated Fae could see the internal struggle taking place; the impossible fae-lust warring with years of bitterness, celibacy, and Faeophobia.

"I...I need...no...you...I can't..." Her expression twisted, she had come here to punish them for their noisy sex-play, yet after catching the back end of the Ring spell, she could no longer control her reaction. She needed something that she could not name. Her mind was at war with itself, but Lily knew what she needed.

They had tried to defeat her breasts. They had tried to pump them, confine them, and conceal the nymph's bulbous boobs. But never before had they arrested a nymph like Lily. She ignored she sting of the iron bars, as mounds of titflesh exploded through the gaps in the bars. Soon, globes of womanhood rocketed forth from the size of mere water-balloons, to a size ever-approaching that of a watermelon.

"DRINK!" ordered Lily.

"I don't....when....I'm not...no..." stammered the confused Officer, whom according to her nametag was an Officer 'Stinson'.

"JUST DRINK!" Lily's breasts began to dribble. It was one of those pivotal moments that defined the future. A choice that would determine the course of an entire life. Whether by choice, by compulsion, or mere curiosity, Stinson sealed her fate when she latched onto the proferred nipple.

Focusing, Lily channeled the entirety of her goddess-magic into her breasts; enhancing their already potent nourishment magic. She really wasn't sure what would happen; even a freshman thaumaturgy 101 student knew not to combine different kinds of magic running at the same time. Such meddling produced unpredictable magical synergy. Officer Stinson didn't know either; she only knew utter bliss.

The flavor of Lily's goddess-milk was like honey-flavored ambrosia cream with a nutty undercurrent of wholesome purity. It was a funny thing about nymphs; they possessed an irresistable urge to nurture and nourish. Despite attempts to control and restrict her breasts, Lily would not be defeated. The more the human suckled her, the more rich lactation she slurped down, the stronger the magic became, the greater became the nurturing power. The forest nymph's tits grew larger even as they were drained, to meet the great need.

When the quivering began, Stinson must have drained almost a quart from Lily's bulging bazookas. She released a slippery nipple, amidst milky squirts as the fat human began to moan. Stinson stood on her knees, gazing at herself as the changes accelerated. With a *WHOOSH* and and a *THUMP* many pounds of fat was sucked into a shrinking waistline. Her pants legs rippled as legs sleeked out with the disappearance of adipose tissue. Stinson gulped as her saggy face and eyes were sucked back, tightening. As her clothes became less fitting, slipping off her slimming body, she began gurgling, eyes rolling back, and the fairy creatures could see her mind being torn apart and recycled like last week's newspaper. 

The human had gripped Lily's now beachball-sized tits, and as her hands began to release their hold, Lily could feel callouses melting away to leave behind fresh-smelling flower-soft skin. Pale, unwholesome skin darkened to a healthy, tanned color, and sparks began to fly as imperfections vanished. Warts, scars, blemishes vanished in showers of green sparks as her skin perfected itself, becoming as smooth and flawless as polished velvet.

"NNNNHHH!! Itches..."she complained, scratching at her formerly grey-streaked brown hair, releasing her tight bun. Her rapidly greening hair began to quiver, as something slithered up from beneath her hairline...yes...a...a little vine with a bud on the tip! The bud arose from her now forest-green head of hair, blossoming wide into a brilliant blue Tulip! It tilted to catch the nearest source of sunlight. "AHHHHHH!" came the sigh of sublime relief. "I...I...I want to be a Stripper!" proclaimed the new forest nymph, as she did a cute little pirouette, her clothes falling away to reveal her slim, nude body. 

Wrinkles were gone, warts were gone, sags were gone. Amelia Stinson was also gone. Perhaps someone that had known her 20 years ago might have a chance of recognizing her now, but in truth she had never looked so good. Ironically, out of all the bloated tissue she had lost, her breasts were actually larger now; almost the size of motorcycle-helmets. Quickly, she used the keys to unlock the cell of the older Fae.

"Nuuuhhhh...*snort*...she...she...told me she was eighteen....mmm." gurgled the satyr, sleeping in a nearby cell, hoofed feet kicking in the throes of a dream.

"TEHEHEHEHEHEH!" she giggled, emerald eyes wide with glee. "That mean ol' human is gone now! How can I thank you for getting rid of her?" She was as giggly, flirty, and enthusiatic as the youngest fae; and Lily felt a surge of motherly compassion. She laid her hand on the nymph's nipple; a comforting gesture of friendship for her...their kind. 

"Just...Just go and tell the humans not to be afraid of our breasts!" Proclaimed Lily, almost lapsing back into lecture-mode. "When a Fae rips open her blouse, and offers up her breasts to you; don't be afraid to latch onto a nipple and begin to drink!" 


"Oh, would that humanity would follow suit!" began Morganna; hands clasped together theatrically. "A host of ills could be thus cured; if only the humans could overcome the prudish hate spawned from prejudice, and allow us the quench their Faeophobia with the milk of our bosoms!"

"We could solve a lot of problems if humans weren't afraid to suck our tits." said Cori, with grave seriousness. 

"By Neptune! Most impressive Professor! Many Fae can turn a human woman into a cock-sucking slut with little effort; but to turn her into another Fae demands impressive power!" cooed Shelly.

"My name is Tulip!" stated the new forest nymph, her fresh, dimpled face wide with wonder. "Will I ever have as many flowers as you Mother?" she asked Lily in awe. The proud parent smiled broadly; her three blossoms unfurling proudly.

"Our flowers are a direct mark of our fertility. With your good breeding hips, and tits like that, you'll find many humans glad to seed your loins with their sperm. Go forth! Go out and have sex for the sake of sex! And never...never pass up a chance to become pregnant! I'm sure you'll get your second flower in no time!"

"YAAAY!!" cried Tulip the nymph. "I'm not like that mean, ugly human..." she bent down and grabbed at her old uniform. "But I can still use her handcuffs!!" The Janitor, old Bill was outside the door; clutching his penis in confusion as the sudden surge of male potency swept over him. Giggling, Tulip scampered out the door. It was good that she wanted to be a stripper; she was ruined in her current career. Forest Nymphs were built to entice, not intimidate. Amelia Stinson had possessed a surprising layer of muscles beneath her rolls of blubber, good for taking down either human drunkards or nubile nymphs, but Tulip the nymph was all flowery softness and demure voluptuousness. Grappling with her was like tackling a bouquet. Yet, Bill the Janitor learned something surprising, as the lithe and horny fae was upon him.

There was one muscle, a group of muscles that were far, far stronger than ever before. The old, stubbly-faced janitor discovered the prodigious strength of a forest nymph's cunt. The inner walls of her womanly core grasped and trapped Bill's surprisingly potent penis with a vice-like grip. He gasped, sharply at the pleasure; and he knew he would not last long before such an onslaught. Tulip giggled, and caressed his balls comfortingly. Janitor Bill was neither the most virile nor handsome of men; yet he'd always been nice to Amelia, and Tulip knew he was a sweetie; so he was the natural choice for the father of her first crop of young. Gurgling with joy, his face was buried in her bosom as she informed him to never, ever be afraid to suck her tits.

"Hrrnhh....never...never told me...she was married...*snore*"

**********

She would get used to it. The girl was a paralegal from the D.A.'s office, Cynthia by name, she was crying, wailing as her belly swelled mightily with young. She was squatting on hands and knees wailing as her throw-pillow belly filled out to become more the size of a full backpack. She was pretty little half-asian caucasian mix, and when the Orgy wave overtook her, there had been many men available to shoot their loads into her fertile depths.

Suzie from Dispatch admitted that she'd been rather afraid the first go 'round. They'd all heard frightening stories of magically-quickened pregnancies. Go to a bar, meet some shady Fae; next day you've got a 9-month-belly, and before you can get to the Emergency Room you've squeezed out a load of weird, fairy children. Suzie couldn't speak for all women, but the quickened pregnancies was the most erotic and affirming experience she could remember. Nothing made her feel more alive; more utterly female than seeing her belly begin to swell, right below her navel. To feel the flutterings, the delicate quivers as the offspring shot through months of growth in minutes. To feel the growing pressure inside her womb, and then the surge of hormones.

Suzie from Dispatch threw back her head, gurgling with euphoria as the tingling sensation of what must be months worth of pregnancy hormones burning her brain all at once. In moments, fear and trepidation melted away; replaced with erotic glee and a warm, motherly glow. As her belly swelled further; obscuring her feet gradually, Suzie became overwhelmed with a feeling of perfect, visceral satisfaction. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to carry the little darlings; and to squeeze them from her womb.

There was one. The creature was merely six inches in length, and while it was a newborn, when scrutinized, it's body and figure was much like that of a high-fashion run-way model. A slender, lanky physique of sleek womanhood, though tiny, and with glassy little insect wings from her back. It landed on its mother's cereal-bowl sized tit.

Pixies; they were pixies. Every one of the dozen or so females in the Precinct that day was giving birth to dozens, upon dozens of little pixies; their hair a natural shade of hot pink. What should have been a 7-9 pound human infant had instead become dozens of little pixies, flittering about and giggling mischievously.

"One's....not enough..." snarled Sara, from close by in the Captain's office. "Old days...back in the 20th....a woman got by...with one orgasm...a few squirts...not anymore..." The Captain had overcome his previous reluctance and was now mounting Sara, her long hair whipping about in time to the thrusts of his pelvis nestled against her shapely, nude ass. "It's the Age...of Magic....woman...can expect more...from a man...can't get by...one one orgasm...we deserve better!" The magically virile Captain, balding head contorting in passion, did not seem inclined to disagree. Even with his meat inside her, Suzie saw the female detective's womb begin to bulge out with the next batch. 

That reminded her not to neglect her stud. McMurphy clenched his hardened penis with a deathgrip, waiting with baited breath for her to finish birthing this litter of young that they might start upon the next. She swallowed his member and lavished him with her expert tongue to take the edge of his yearning. Yet again, her water broke and more pixies squeezed their way out of her. Though young and without knowledge, the pixie-spawn were quite precocious; playing with loaded side-arms, rummaging through the evidence locker, rearranging the bulletin boards; that insane giggling reverberating throughout the building. Though all the young pixies took time out rub and their mother's teats; so full with rich milk that the slightest touch created fountaining rivulets of lactation. 

But it didn't stop there; so long as there was a calorie of energy left in their bodies, male and female would continue to couple, attempting more and more pregnancies. Their rational, human minds knew that there was work to be done, prisoners to be controlled, rules and ethics that forbade this carnal incident. They knew, yet they kept crawling on top of each other. Cynthia, the young paralegal knew she should try to escape this madness; yet instead she squeezed out more pixies; then lifted her shapely ass high in the air; shamelessly posturing for the next penis.

Brian, exhausted beyond all endurance, slithered atop Suzie again, hoping his penis would become hard; that he might send one more spurt inside her. The constant swelling, throbbing, and stretching of female bellies around litters of young, elicited many cries of shock; yet now there was new cause to shriek. Both Brian and Suzie felt them; Brian sprawled out atop the female, feeling the twinge below him. 

They were like tiny moles at first, or maybe bugbites; yet they were in pairs...two pairs each...below Suzie's overtaxed, milking teats. McMurphy rose, scrutinized his mate. Several pixies took the opportunity to tug at, and bounce upon her ample breasts, releasing yet more creamy jets. The lower bumbs spread radially at first, rising from the terrain of her flesh like the earth before a volcano emerges. The tiny dots spread, grew, hardened....inflated.

Nipples. they were nipples; the size of little raisins in the beginning. Suzie's breathing became rapid, Brian released her, two more pink-haired pixies squeezed their way from her cunt, as another euphoric wave overwhelmed Suzie's mind. Those raisins became kumquats, accompanied by a soft, growing curve of womanly flesh. In two rows they grew, forming a vertical line across her sweaty, freakled skin. Like buoys bobbing in the sea, the nipples twitched as the growth accelerated. In seconds, nipple and breast had exceeded Strawberry size the first time Suzie caressed herself.

"HUFF...PUFF..." Suzie from Dispatch breathed heavily; Brian looked around; could he expect this from the other effected females? There was Sara; on all fours, three rows of dangling teats hung at least six inches from her chest. Cynthia was not as far along; her lower row of four new breasts had not yet reached strawberry size. But when he looked back, Suzie had reached baseball size. Her four new teats were gaining real jiggle, and where far, far softer than the hard orbs they resembled in size. Suzie ran a hand over her middle tit row, her middle finger rising from the pressing swell of tit that enlarged in less than three seconds onward, upward, past apple, orange, and approaching grapefruit size!

"Makes...sense..." Suzie gurgled...so many young....n-need more boobs. Soon....m-more cock..." 

Every woman inside the building had become a six-breasted, pixie-factory, brood mare. And while seemingly exhausted; the latest change succeeded in further increasing the over-charged libidoes; as that biker kid discovered. He was wearing a sleek, yellow spandex suit and aerodynamic helmet of the sort that bicyclists use; but not for long. He was probably coming to report some routine complaint when Sargeant Ramirez saw him. And he was not wearing that outfit, or any for long.

Slithering up his slender, muscled figure upon slamming him to the ground, Sargeant Ramirez tore away the fabric with teeth and a growl. Her heightened animal instincts causing her to revel in the musky scent of the young, athletic male; probably from college. Smothered beneath six jiggling, careening boobs, the bicyclists' complaints became silenced by slippery, spurting breasts, as Ramirez impaled herself upon his rapidly hardening rod. The boy was dark-haired, with a stout chin and prominent nose; the raven-haired police woman couldn't allow such a delicious morsel to escape without at least one litter!

"That's the real purpose of Pixie-Dust." Explained Lisa, after she had retrieved their purses, and personal articles confiscated by the authorities. "There are no....never were male pixies; ever. It'll be the end of us if a time comes when pixies can't convince other races to screw us. And Mermaids think they have it tough!"




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 04



She was naked; and horny. Lurching down the dusk-shrouded streets of Panama City, drifting away from the Interstate, she grappled with her own lust. Gazing at ther reflection in the sheen of a department store window, the shock, the awe impacted her again. Her hair was still the same auburn-red as ever, in a short, stylishly functional center-part; yet her unfeminine haircut wildly contrasted with the remainder of her visage.

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.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 04



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! 

"BUSTY BOSOM BLOW-OUT"

STARRING:

TATIANNA TITS 

While normally distrustful of the Fae, the reknowned Elven Porn-Star had feminine assets to sway even the most virulent Faeophobe, much less Jackson himself. Poor little Dydra might be scarred for life if she was able to figure out how to run a DVD player! With tentative, tremulous fingers, Jackson had no choice but to open the door. The glaring sunlight from his wide-open window glistened in the spikes of his blond crew-cut, as the light bathed his stocky, yet fit frame.

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. 

"COCK!!"

He did not need to be told again of the desires of the otherworldy entity of sensual sorcery sprawled deliciously before him. Lurching forward, his thick muscles tensed when first he laid the palm of his hand upon the ripe buttocks posturing before him. In her matured form, touching the creature was like laying hold of a live power cable. But it was pleasure, not voltage that seared into him, burning his brain with currents of electrifying joy.

"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.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 04



"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.




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 05



"Orgasms," she explained. Professor Lily's rose flower, which grew naturally from her scalp, seemed to shrink back into a bud, and retreat under her thick mane of forest-green hair. A sure sign that the buxom forest nymph was distressed. "That's why Dryads seem to be bound to their trees; Orgasms." She and the pink-haired pixie, Lisaeluriel (Lisa for short) were staring through the steamy glass of a greenhouse that sat alone in a cleft of hills, nearly hidden from view. The golden-haired Unicorn girl, Corona of the Elysian Fields, (Cori for short) stood lookout; her golden eyes scanning the nearby doors, and the small gravel road leading away from the secluded greenhouse for any sign that their investigation was being noticed.

Peering through a window clouded by the humid steam that roiled within the moist confines of the Greenhouse, Lily pressed her copious breasts against the glass as she continued;

"Human myth teaches that Dryads were nature spirts bound into a tree, that their lifeforce depended upon the tree, but the humans were mistaken; look closely Lisa, inside there by those roots, and you'll see what the Dryads really are." Brushing away a strand of hot-pink hair, recently stained with multiple loads of semen, the pixie stared wide-eyed into the Greenhouse...

**********

She had to remind herself of her name. As Viviana sprawled naked in the soil, she had to sift through her own mind, overcome as it was by the waves of pleasure. The Trees were unlike anything she had seen before; unlike anything on Earth; interspersed amidst the leaves were the vines, vines that ravished her. Green ropes whipped, thrust, and slipped in and out of her cunt with preternatural agility. The busty, naked human did not need the velvety flowers to blast that strange, golden pollen into her face, electrifying her senses with narcotic ecstasy, yet they did so. The flowers were all in the shape of vertical, puffy lips. each with a small, hooded bud at the top. The blossoms swelled and pulsated, giving the impression that the lips were engorged with lust. Light glistened off small, almost transparent hairs that surrounded the blooming lips.

As the vines entwined her hips, her legs, her pussy, The flowers caressed her, moving with uncanny volition. Golden, glittering pollen tingled against her olive-colored skin, her every synapse firing with bliss. Periodically, the flowers would begin to drool, and a substance sweet enough to make nectar taste like ashes by comparison would sometimes appear inside the lips. The soft blooms were pink, yet they seemed to shift radiantly through different phases and shades of pink, as the obscene angiosperms dribbled clear juice onto her.

There was an impulse to bury herself in the sensation; to forget everything that she had been, so that no thought, no reservation would detract from the soul-searing ecstatic rapture that melted Viviana's resistance. The vines, the creeping vines from the plant filled her womanly sanctum, channeling pure sensation into her tenderest flesh; the experience defied explanation or comprehension. It was as though her leafy paramour was ejaculating the essence of ten-thousand orgasms into her at once; indeed the dark-haired human could not even tell if she had orgasmed herself! Was the sweet, copious ejaculate that glistened luridly against her toned thighs from a woman's body, or was it more of the plant's sex-nectar?

Viviana neither knew nor cared. As it ever was with the Dryads and their trees, the mere moment it touched her sexual core; she was buried beneath an avalanche of bliss that had no conclusion, no increase. There was no building up towards climax; when the plant buried its pleasure-givers within her womb, she has carried to a sensory level higher than mere orgasm, stimulation far less should have brought on the spurting, the slickness, the release of female lubricant as her girl-cum eased the path for impregnation for some lucky sperm.

She had almost forgotten the pleasure to come. With each impact, with each planting of the precious Dryad seeds, she lost some measure of herself. She became devoted, with each thrust, to caring for, nurturing the new life within her womb. 

"One..."

"Two!"

"Th-nn..." she gurgled in primal bliss. "F-four!"

"N-nahh! F-fi..." her grunts became fearsome, inhuman, beastial, as her sweat-slicked body glistened beneath a shiny layer of sexual fluids. "SEVEN!" came the howl. 

What Joy! What a blessing! This was why the humans had told the Dryad legends, the women seemed so dependent upon their trees; and so they were! But not for life; for the pleasure! The ecstasy of the impregnation; the exaltation as the tree chose to implant more, and more of its precious seeds!! Before, she had only carried three at a time; yet the Tree was pleased! It now deemed her worthy to nurture seven of its precious seeds! The new women; those just recently implanted, were given only one seed in their wombs, perhaps two if they were exceptionally voluptuous. The Tree needed to invest its seeds wisely; depending on how quickly she fed them, how well they were nurtured, how soon she birthed the matured offspring, the Tree might decide to give her more seeds for care. It trusted Viviana! It trusted her to nurture seven of its precious spawn! She would not disappoint her lover; she had grown wise in the ways of procurement; she knew that especially now, with Spring Break in full swing, she could provide the seeds with their proper nourishment:

Male Sperm. And busty, sultry Viviana would not fail.

********** 

Lisa felt a slight tingle in her pussy. Although she had attracted the attention of more than enough human males to become fully impregnated; her baseline state of scarcely contained nymphomania sent shivers through her at the site of the human woman under such sexual onslaught. The gravid fairy rubbed the mound above her own pussy in subconscious sympathy with the rapturous ravishing that was going on inside the Greenhouse. 

Strangely, pregnancy only took the sharp edge off of her lust; it did not cancel it. Her belly had grown slightly over the past half-hour, from the rapidly gestating offspring within her, as if she'd gotten an apple caught there, above her crotch. The hormones of a magical pregnancy often filled pixies with even greater fires of libidinous frenzy; yet Lisa's lust was not much greater than what a human female could expect! The mesmerized Fae looked deeper into the glass, closer at the plant-human mating unfolding like the buds in a garden of orgies. The hardened nipples capping her melon-sized breasts tented easily the fabric of her pink bikini top; and even pressed to the glass, anyone watching inside the Greenhouse would notice her blatant arousal. 

It was good that Lisa had already postured her naked womanhood to the humans for mating today; impregnated with human sperm, the urgency had gone out of her ubiquitous sex drive. And yet...it was odd; it should not be. With most pixies, and with Lisa herself, pregnancy had only increased her urges! Yet her body's response was comparatively lackluster from what she might have expected. Now that the humans had sired offspring upon her, all that remained was her everlasting love of sex itself; she no longer craved it with a rampant passion beyond all reason; at least for the next few hours. She could observe, and concentrate on the events before her, without being consumed by the need to join in them. How odd.

It was easier for Lisa that for Professor Lily; The pixie could see a primal yearning overtaking the nymph academic. The look in her eyes was the same as what an artist might express when beholding a radiant sunset, or what a grandmother might look like as she gazed upon a family photo album. The plant sex with the human female had triggered something ancient, something wild within the nymph's brain, and Lisa knew that Lily was in danger of losing herself to the yearnings, while Lisa still needed information on well...exactly what the hell was going on? 

She gripped Lily's right breast; a soothing gesture that at once commanded attention; the preferred greeting amongst fae. 

"You were saying something about the Dryads, Professor Lily?" Lisa said, attempting to trigger the nymph's intellect, rather than her hormones. 

"Er...eh... Y-yes..." Blinking, Lily's higher brain functions reasserted themselves. "As you see here, the Dryad Tree has a complex, symbiotic relationship. Though nearly extinct on Faerie, much is known. The females attracted to the Tree are used as reproductive surrogates;" she made a restraining gesture with her delicate hands. "It is not that Dryads need their Trees to survive, but they are protective of them simply because the sex is so good." Lily's formidable intelligence was in control, as she entered lecture mode, inspite of her body's reaction. Her breasts quivered, expanding slightly from a rush of feminine hormones from party balloon size more towards the diameter of a soccer ball, yet she still resisted the urge to masturbate herself, which would have overcome most nymphs when exposed to such a scene. 

"The effect on humans is much more severe;" she continued. "Against a Fae female, the Tree has little permanent effect, but it appears that human females experience a dramatic sexual augmentation and exponential libido increase. Basically, the Tree implants healthy females with its seed, which require the genetic material and nutrients found in sperm. That's why it's so important to choose attractive females, and to enhance their sexual characteristics further, because of the need to secure vast amounts of raw, fresh semen." Lily allowed herself a shiver of pleasure, as her bikini top creaked from the enlarging burden of her fertile bosom. "The Dryads themselves, in the humanoid life-cycle, they feed off of what humans call the Y-chromosome, they feed from masculinity, consuming it as their sole food source. Male fae, with their magical health and sexual potency suffer no noticeable effects. But humans...." Lily rubbed her chin. In distress, a chrysanthemum that grew naturally from her scalp joined her rose and sank below her hairline. "I have some disturbing theories on what might happen if a healthy Dryad started feeding off the Y-chromosomes of human males." 

"But...Dryad Trees..." Lisa began in confusion, "Aren't they extinct? Even on Faerie? Where could they have come from?" 

"I think someone is using them, someone preserved them for a specific purpose, and someone must do something before the Dryads, both Tree and Humanoid can feed from the vast, male potential on Earth; I think I know just what would happen....." 

**********

You couldn't trust the Fae. Clayton used them often enough; the trouble was...well the little sluts were too flighty. They loved this type of work! So they said. Clayton grit his teeth in frustration, pacing backstage at the dressing room, the everpresent cigarette smoke creating a palpable haze. Here in Florida, it wasn't difficult to find giggling, man-hungry mermaids, stumbling into his establishment on magically-conjured legs. These mythical creatures begged for the chance to strut naked on the stage of the 'KA-BOOB', Exotic dancing and stripping was especially important, they said, because they needed the chance to practice walking on legs; most having spent centuries in faerie swimming around with their fish-tails.

But really, mermaids only started moving on land because that's where the men where. And they found them all too easily. All the Fae Clayton had employed lacked the self-control to avoid gang-bangs with the audience. If you didn't stop them, the silly little sluts would allow themselves to be taken right there on stage, from every hole! Hmm...perhaps he should get into the Adult film industry. Those blasted mermaids; each evening, they would go home with some random patron, and neither of them would return for days, if ever. Most Fae just couldn't keep schedules.

Clayton paced by the now empty women's dressing rooms, trying to block out the drone of impatient voices of the customers. It was a big night! Spring Break with the Bosom Builders in town! Tons of horny college boys looking for action! And wouldn't you know it; his last human girl had left after he'd had to reneg on her pay; and he'd tried to contact Pacifica again, easily the most popular Mermaid in the KA-BOOB's history....

"Hey P! We gotta gig! I need ya girl! It's gonna be a big..." shouted Clayton over the phone, struggling to contain his nervousness.

"Mmm-mmuuh..." came the muted groan.

"Pacifica! Ya listenin'? This is big! Yer gonna make a motherload in tips!" his hands shook.

"COCK!! IT'S SO....SO BIG!!!" came a feminine moan followed by a wet slurping sound.

"Babe! Lissen! Ya said you were available! I need girls! We can rake it in!!!" His heart sank, knowing the result of his entreaties.

"Nuuuh...*SHLUNK* *SLUCK*..." The phone, held much too close, picked up the most lurid sounds, as the faerie creature allowed some random human male to vent his lusts inside her well-lubricated femalia. Male grunts joined a chorus of feminine shrieks, it could've been at least two or three guys from the sounds, pumping the mystical being full of human sperm. "MISH'RA YAA-ANAH! LEASCHADJIILYN!" The faerie was lapsing back into her native language; a sure sign that her brain was too drugged with lust to even consider getting out of bed, much less leaving. There was a thump as someone kicked the phone, and Clayton's pleas where answered only by the creaking of bed springs accompanied by rhythmic, feminine grunts, the mermaid no doubt getting screwed royally by a former patron of the 'KA-BOOB' that she couldn't resist taking home. 

He hung up; maybe it was his fault. He rarely allowed his Fae employees to give him blowjobs while on the job, as they all offered. Would that have kept them happier? Not that he wasn't interested, but he preferred to focus on business. In truth, his industry was changing from the new complexities introduced by the Fae; the magical creatures were notoriously unreliable as employees, yet the human girls seemed furiously offended by their very presence. Some nights, he attracted bigger crowds by using some mermaid or pixie with boobs the size of midgets, but they couldn't be trusted, and the more reliable humans felt inadequate and alienated.

Of course, Clayton wasn't that much to look at; balding, beer-bellied, hardly an Adonis. Though he always thought he had a strong, commanding gaze that got people's attention. Would the Fae stick around if he'd been a stud? Hmm...what he needed was the new breed of professionals; the new, enhanced sex-workers that were cropping up in the bigger cities. There were women that used the new magic to maximum effect in the Adult industries. There were spells to duplicate the work of the best 20th century plastic surgeons, spells to youthen older women, and if a girl invested early, she could make a life-long career of dancing, stripping, and adult-films without even resorting to prostitution. But that took some cash, and you didn't get girls like that in smaller clubs like the 'KA-BOOB!" 

*THUMMMP* It was the metal door to the emergency exit, (boy was this an emergency!) Probably some drifter or bum trying to beg for scraps. There was a muffled cry as he reached for the door;

"MALE!" came a high-pitched voice. What-the....mail? The Mail-man? At this time of night? Without a clear purpose, Clayton opened the door....

The serendipity of it was enough to make him believe in God; the fact that she was naked, making no attempt to cover the slender splendour of her gracefully feminine body bespoke of her comfort with a task such as he needed. There was no time for names, interviews, he needed a girl! Needed one on stage in minutes! And this naked nymph just popped up at the Emergency Exit! She was a nymph wasn't she? The seductive girl-creature had the same, forest green hair as a nymph, but they all had flowers in their hair; not her though. Well so what!? Maybe she was just what he needed! He needed her on-stage! he needed...he needed....need....

Clayton only experienced the briefest flashes of awareness, glimmers of intelligence as the rutting began. Perhaps this was how the Fae felt, he mused as the iron-grip of sensual desire stronger than life itself gripped him. His portly physique had never impressed women, but this nymph-faerie creature tackled him with a relentless hunger. Was the mermaid Pacifica consumed with similar desires right now? Wrapping her magically-conjured legs around the pumping pelvis of a human partner?

Then the tingling seized him; it was as if currents of power, currents of magic surged through him. His mate's eyes glowed green for a second, amidst a throaty howl. As their crotches joined, the magical lure of her cunt seemed to bind his member; their two sexes seemed to seal against each other. The sensation overloaded whatever intelligence still remained after the initial burst of beastial lust. He could not tell if magic was pouring into him, or if something was being sucked out of him.

"Not...much Male...Need More! Feed More!! FEEEEEED!!" proclaimed the sex-creature, digging her nails into his back, seeming to suck his penis farther and further into her ravenous womanhood. It would take over a minute for Clayton's sex-crazed mind to register this comment as an insult, not that it would have deterred either of them. 

Then....the floating came. The searing lightning-sensation that coursed through him scorched Clayton with forbidden pleasure. He felt light...lighter than air.... so smooth...so perfect. His attempts at laughter came out as gurgles of lust, however, as vision, and hearing blurred. The sensation, the tactile bliss was all.

With a trembling rush, he felt as if his entire center of gravity was changing; gone was the familiar weight of his gut, yet his crotch burned with an erotic frenzy!....and...and his chest! Like a building of pressure, and increasing sensation of pleasure waiting to explode!

(POP)

Two female vaginas disengaged with a wet, audible sound, sending droplets of tangy cuntjuice flying. Simultaneously, both cunts throbbed in a pulse-pounding orgasm. Clayton ran small hands from widened, smooth hips; towards the alien sensation of a female crotch, up the soft slope of a tight belly, towards the great mounds of womanly whoppers that had sprouted. The tremulous globes of love-flesh jiggled and bounced like pliable balloons, nearly the same size. The woman that had been Clayton tensed as spasms of lustful tension exploded through her crotch. 

"Male....gone now..." murmured the green-haired, slutty predator. She curled up into a corner, seeming to doze off, with the smiling satisfaction of a good, full meal.

"I'm not..." stammered the woman, a curly mane of reddish-brown hair falling over her green eyes. "Not.. a woman..." I don't....NNNAHH!" Clayton knew that there were differences between the brains of men and women, so it was less of a surprise as the rush of magic and hormones assaulted his/her brain; causing a flash of confusion; disorientation. The magic was giving him a female brain to match this ridiculous, jiggling body of outrageous voluptuousness. Stumbling across the wooden floor in fear and confusion, Clayton saw a reflection in the open door of a currently unused dressing room.

The pathetic slut was probably no older than nineteen, sweaty curls of strawberry-blond hair wove around her full cheeks and wide, green eyes. She was a short, wobbling mound of sex-flesh carved from Clayton's own wet dreams; but now he was the dream. He could hear the voices of the men from outside, nearby the stage, eagerly demaning their lascivious entertainment. No matter what the magic had done to her, no matter what had happened; The 'KABOOB' was still his titty bar! He would be flexible, and adapt. He needed dancers, but now he....




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 05



There was no other option; Clayton strode out, wearing a sequined red bikini, to save the Bar, to save this business. The music began it's pulse-pounding throb, as the jiggling sex-pot grasped the greased pole......

**********

She was truly a contender; the combination of luck, discipline, and grit had payed off. Violet practically jiggled with enthusiasm as the cooled her heels backstage while replacing the tortured ruin of her bikini top. When the fertility magic claimed you, the amateurs fell all to pieces. But not her! She had suceeded! She had not done a stage dive into the seats to rape the male audience! The drills and exercises over the past year had been just enough; when her rational mind had been utterly subsumed by the primal breeding instinct, her subconscious mind had remained firm! She remained on the stage with not a drop of sperm on her!

Yet from the groans, and the way the men in the front rows had clutched their crotches, she suspected that there had been quite a bit of sperm, confined to the insides of underwear. Despite the reactions she'd grown accustomed to over the years, despite the gawking and staring at the twin mountains of Violet's double-KK cup udders, she still couldn't help but be flattered when men came in their pants because of her.

But even better was her chance to turn a failure into a success! There had been no way to stop her milk production; the fecundity of her magical figure had turned her into a fountainhead of female productivity, as with most bosom builders. During her dance routine, she had already passed the point of no return, where her body could no longer contain the rich ambrosia boiling inside her teats. Soon into the routine, as the magic of breeding, lust, and fertility burned through her veins, she was unable, (even had she wanted to) of shriking down her bazookas into a size that would have allowed walking. There was too much milk, too much lactation. Her body demanded release! Her body demanded sex! At that past moment, on stage, near the end of the dance, the magic seized her, and Violet existed for no purpose than to accept semen, release her nourishing milk, and grow gravid with young. She had narrowly evaded the crushing urge to offer herself to the audience, but she couldn't help but replay in her mind the moment....

"I'm your Venus, I'm your Fire, at your Desire...." 

So ended her soundtrack, and so ended her restraint. Breasts had been enlarged by the bosom magic past the size of any fruit, jiggling and throbbing on through baseball, football, even basketball size, larger then her normal size of a collegiate backpack. Her sensitive, milk-ripened boobs soon began to surpass even that of beanbag chairs. And while it was relatively easy for most Contenders to reach this size, it was not easy to maintain this size and not tackle any man in sight with nymphomanical frenzy. Yet Violet had done one better; she'd gotten larger yet, near the size of twin weatherballons, as the reinforced denim weave of her bikini began to shred. While a professional could often reach this size as well, it was not easy to maintain such splendour for even a moment without setting off to track down and rape anyone with a cock at the fastest speed her preposterous dimensions would allow.

It was as if Nature itself had delivered her an ultimatum; with so much magic, so much breeding potential surging through her, it was as if Mother Nature had sternly instructed her: "YOU WILL NOT GROW MAMMARIES THAT LARGE WITHOUT POSTURING YOURSELF TO A MALE TO BE IMPREGNATED!" it was a stern, unspoken edict that each Contender had to find the strength to deny. But it was almost agonizing to resist this mandate. The seething lust within her drenched pussy became almost painful at this point, unless a penis was swiftly forthcoming. That elf, a blue-haired beauty before Violet, had not been able to resist. Nature's command could not be denied, and she was not the only Bosom Builder to eschew her own performance, leap from the stage naked to bare her female charms to any and all penises able to muster up an erection. It was still amazing to the tall, atheltic human that she'd maintained any shred of control at all. Was it just her, or where there fewer Bouncers around? No matter.

At the last moment, at the final beat, right at the very second her song ended, came the release. There was no avoiding it; no suppressing it. And typically a Contender would lose points for drenching the audience with sprays of hot breastmilk spewing from her hardened nipples. It was an understandable reaction; but ideally, a modern women of preposterous endowments must be able to excuse herself from polite company before 'letting-down'. And gang-bangs, whether the woman started them or not were a strict no-no. Yes, Violet should have lost points- except that her eruption occurred at that precise, final moment. The end of her soundtrack was the start of the fountain.

She still had the strength; Violet's athelticism would have enabled her to walk just enough to do a stage dive onto the penises below, but it was just enough release to simply spew forth hot gouts of raw, female ambrosia onto the expectant men in the front row. And that was the dilemma: The precise timing of her let-down was itself an accomplishment. Each of the judges, visible but shrouded in obscuring shadow, knew all too well the trials and tribulations of the preposterously-endowed woman in the modern world. Each of them had been in a similar situation; the unchecked magic of breeding and sex made them into engines of fertility, they would have all had embarassing lactation episodes. Such precision spoke of a higher discipline, it suggested that Violet might have several levels of control. The commentators chattered about the skill needed for such restraint, and the judges seemed to have deliberated carefully. 

A plain-looking woman in a red uniform sauntered past, between the two long benches where the bosom builders rested between events. She was a temporary worker hired for this event, and she displayed an impressive professionalism in her demeanor when confronted with a room full of the preposterously endowed. She carried a silver tray full of a colorful arrangement of fragrant dildos, arranged in an appealing spectrum of hues. In the professional circuits, it was good practice to provide relief for the Contenders at least midway through the event; while you were normally encouraged not to indulge in sex right before; once the magic surged through each contestant, a little relief often diminished the chance of accidents. Accidental orgies, that is. Really, it was not much different than athletes gulping down some Gatorade between sprints.

Violet chose a green, minty-scented 8-incher with extra ribbing. While relaxing, she decided to indulge her curiosity. Well-versed though she was in the Sport, it always paid to get a hint of what the competition was up to; how they trained. Next to Violet on the bench was a freckled, red-headed sex-pot; perhaps Irish in origin. She was number 17, according to the circular button affixed to her bikini strap, and she had her eyes closed in exhaustion while gently milking herself. Her rosy, freckled udders would have put a typical dairy cow to shame, and Violet had never seen the girl's boobs smaller than basketball size. Now, her breasts where perhaps an inch in diameter past that, and with each squeeze, silken rivulets of rich milk escaped her mammalian mounds. While her green eyes where closed, Violet cupped her hand and captured a bit of the warm lactate to taste. Mmmm..... heavy sweetness....with a rich, nutty flavor....hmm.... Number 17 must be using a heavy cardio-vascular approach to training; much like Violet herself. The gallons of feminine ambrosia fell into a grate in the center of the floor, where it would be piped out to sealed containers, then filtered and pasteurized by the Dairy company sponsors. Why waste it?

Across from the athletic, tanned human was a pixie with an pert nose and sky-blue hair, number 47 she was labeled. Her naked mammaries jutted out like submarine torpedoes, her heavy breathing told Violet that this pixie's escape from sexual oblivion had been even more tenuous. Her clear antennae were curled up tightly above her brow, indicating considerable stress. Violet's hand quickly darted out to catch a drop from the golden nipples of the pixie's protruding juggs. *SLURP* the milky flavor had a powerful undercurrent of cinnammon; from that, Violet could tell that number 47 relied heavily on magic potions of many varieties, a method Violet distrusted for its unpredictability.

Feigning the need to stretch, she next decided to check out competitors she was less familiar with. Violet's attention focused upon a voluptuous hispanic woman with a tousled mane of jet-black hair and thick lips. Her breasts seemed to be quivering with barely suppressed growth, it seemed as if their owner was trying to restrain their fertile enthusiasm with the tight grip of her fingers, sinking into the pillow-sized vastness of twin bastions of womanhood. She grunted, arching her back, Violet saw the button, #31 on her bikini shaking as the woman's hips throbbed, seeming to grow. That was why women who were already exceptionally fertile were discouraged from competing; the fertility magic that enhanced her into a Contender also enhanced other sexual traits. Even now, her hipbones were expanding, enlarging so that the latina might bear yet more young within her fecund body. She'd have to be careful; the judges were known to subtract points for that. A tingle surged through Violet's pussy in sympathy for the searing magic that electrified number 31; she was most certainly in the grip of that ultimatum from Mother Nature; it seemed almost a crime against Life itself for this woman not to be on her back, thighs open, with sperm rocketing towards her inner sanctum. No doubt, it wouldn't be long before #31 heeded the demand, probably the next time she saw a man, any man. The need would then become more powerful than all her years of retraint. 

With a wild yelp, her left nipple spurted, catching Violet right in the mouth with a potent gush of cream. Mmmm... less sweetness...high richness...and oooh... a throbbing warmth bathed Violet's tongue, combined with a tingling rush. The girl was a dancer! Either a dancer or a stripper, could be either one. Violet reconsidered; if she was used to posturing herself before men, she likely had efficient, powerful methods to avoid orgies! There might be more to number 31 than she suspected!

"Come to me, human." said a smooth, even voice. Violet turned quickly. The elf sat in a serene, almost stately posture. A trail of tattoos in the shape of butterflies flew from her label, number 83 up around her navel and between her engorged breasts to form a collar of vibrant colors around her throat. Her pointed ears twitched slightly beneath her strait coiffure of snow-white hair. With each slow breath, milk spurts escaped her golden-tipped nipples; her breasts shifting in sizes to a girth similar to that of a canteloupe, larger and larger until her mammalian mountains were in diameter much like a hubcap...then back down to canteloupe size. Rigid control of vaginal muscles caused the black dildo embedded in her moist twat to push in and out in a lazy, steady rhythm.

"Don't be shy; I want you to know my practices." Violet gulped; the elf was onto her. That was a classic misconception about the Fae; many of them were dangerously intelligent, but humans underestimated them due to the use to which they applied that intelligence. But Violet knew better. The elf's slender hands grasped Violet's shoulders, and she was pulled down, face first, into a dribbling nipple. "Drink as much as you like." With a throaty grunt of pleasure, Violet's lips began suckling, draining the elf of her hot milk. Hmm......exotic...... The elf's mammaries produced a creamy lactate with high sweetness, and a strong undercurrent of....green tea? Yes, that meant....mmm.....number 83 was a practitioner of Eastern meditations, probably tantric sexual practices. She had heard that this technique was of use in suppressing the Breeding Lust. Waves of soothing ecstasy washed over her, as the nourishing milk coursed through her body. Hands groped at her outfit, stretching the fabric, until her chosen, minty dildo was rammed unceremoniously into her cunt. Violet sputtered as the elf gripped her, stroking her head until...

"MMNAAAAHH!!" The reverberating cry rang from both throats as the simultaneous orgasm seized both wombs! Violet had tried to ignore...she'd tried to deny how close she'd been to cumming! Her spine tingled, toes curling as the ecstatic spasms wracked her. With each moment of throbbing passion; more muscular control slipped from her spasming body, until Violet's athletic, tanned and toned frame collapsed in a pulsating heap; the orgasm claiming her...dominating her...jerking her like an indecent puppet on a string of latex. She could feel the elf's bulging bazookas spewing tight streams of lactation into her face, as her orgasm triggered the let-down reflex.

And that set it off. Each Contender was sensitive to the magic around them, and the fertility magic increased exponentially from one orgasm, much less two. Just the presence of Violet and the white-haired elf; just their proximity in climax was enough to set off a chain-reaction. A sweaty black girl seated across was the next to fall, her hips churning, writhing as her lower lips shook. A green-haired forest nymph collapsed onto her hands and knees, pussy throbbing, trembling violently. And as each Contender succumbed to the orgasm, the sexual-wave grew stronger, increasing its ability to drive anything with a cunt into spurting, grunting, pussy-dripping climax. The shared explosion swept the backstage hall, and with almost mechanical precision, backs became arched, breasts leapt forward, and nipples began to spurt.

It's a funny thing about Forest Nymphs; they are among the most fertile of all Fae, and not only that, Violet noted that they all seemed to have this pathological urge to use magic to impose that same fertility on others. The dildo-woman, who was just a temporary employee, mistakenly believed that she could escape the proceedings. She was really rather plain, dirty blond hair, a slight double-chin, close to 40 in age. But that was another thing about Nymphs, for some of them, it was like they had a sacred duty to ensorcel people that they thought fell short of their own standards.

It was unclear whether a nymph with two tulips in her hair, labeled Number 56, tackled the assistant simply as a result of the orgasm wave, or whether that was simply an excuse. Her struggles were useless, #56 encircled the human's head and chest, thrusting a turgid nipple deep into her throat. Her pants were soon shredded by a taller, more athletic nymph, #42, who proceeded to eat her out, devouring the human's sex. It took only seconds for the dirty-blond haired worker to forget her struggles; carried off by the narcotic thrill of nymph's milk. Seconds later, the human was borne to the ground, where her two paramours, consumed with the seething tide of fertility magic straddled their sex-toy from both ends. And...uh-oh, the human's face...she was directly exposed to nymph 56's pussy! The tangy nectar dribbled onto her face. Unable to stop herself...the human began to lick. *SHLUNK* *SLURPT*. Quivering in excitement, the captured woman could not have stopped drinking the nymph cum even had she wanted to. The female ejaculate from the steamy-hot cunt of the fae might as well have been the nectar of the gods.

To amuse themselves as the human writhed beneath them, the two nymphs grasped each other's bosoms, boobs with the girth of watermelons collided, nipples pressing each other. With a twitter of forbidden glee, the two fae began drinking from each other. The vast size of their overripe breasts enabled them to easily suckle themselves or each other, and they drank the feminine product churned out by the other, dribbles escaping their lips.

Violet felt a vague sense of duty to intervene, but the second wave hit just then. It was sort of like an echo; the sweeping magic that claimed the bosom builders was so powerful that it triggered another, smaller lustwave in its wake; much like a bouncing rubber ball, or a pendulum. The trick was to remove your panties! Or bikini bottom, or whatever. Backstage shenanigans were not unheard of; but an outfit drenched with milk or cum would be noted by the judges, and points would be lost. Everywhere, drawers were dropped, and Violet hunched down on all fours, trying not to scream out her pleasure, baring her spasming pussy to her fellow Contenders. She could feel her girlcum, a tide of her own cuntjuice slavering her thighs, and had no choice but to kick off her garment altogether, to save it from her own feminine lubricant. She thought she knew how to ride out the storm; Violet was no novice; she'd been in situations like this before, but that was when she felt the lick. It was that stupid, slutty, Zen-Tantric elf with the butterfly tattoos. Maybe she was wrong about her ability to contain the Breeding Lust. She thrust a lurid tongue directly between the pulsing lips of Violet's womanly core. Bitch! She'd get her back. Violet's fingers shot forward, landing with a meaty *SPLUNK* into the elf's own drooling sex. In one of her last, lucid moments, Violet noted that Ms. Zen-elf was probably the only one not howling madly with lurid zeal. It was a quiet, serene nymphomania that controlled the elf; might be an approach worth investigating. But for now, the impulse proved too powerful; Violet's control had diminished considerably after the first half of the competition; not unusual for a major Bosom-Builder's event. An electric surge of libido momentarily stole away her discipline; the Breeding Lust, having no penis as an outlet, manifested itself in a wild burst of lesbian frenzy. Violet could not stop herself from collapsing into a sixty-nine posture with the Zen-elf. Nuzzling, slurping, grinding nose and mouth into the lusty cunt drooling before her.

Violet's own pussy was soon ravaged by a rhythmic, methodical series of strokes from a talented tongue. As their naked, grunting flesh writhed in perverse symphony, the human again made a futile attempt to suppress the exploding Breeding Lust that seared through her; but it was mid-competition, and it was rare indeed for a Contender to maintain full composure after she'd already exercised her fertility powers for so long.

But she knew, they all knew how this would end. As their mountainous mammaries started up another round of fertile growth, they would continue the lesbian orgy until their breasts grew so large that both females were pushed off of each other by the swelling grandeur of their own ripening bosoms.

**********

Hard to remember...Jamie disengaged herself from the tangled, slippery legs of the dozing forest nymphs. Shakily, she tried to stand. The Bosom Builders were quiet now; they'd seemed to have exhausted themselves from orgasm. But she was...she...had...she had a job once...working...for a temp...agency...she...her...her breasts! Clutching the fleshy melons throbbing pertly upon her chest, Jamie examined herself. Gone were decades of stretchmarks, moles, sags and scars. Everywhere she felt only smooth, firm flesh. Her naked form was...well the same as it was when she was 18; she had the same toned legs, silky thighs, taut belly and...and her tits! She had never been quite so big; grasping her ample bosom, Jamie estimated that she was somewhere between grapefruit and soccerball size, with exceptionally wide aureolas, much like coasters, and nipples longer, and harder than ever. Though drenched in sweat, milk, and cuntjuice, she was even better, even tighter than she'd been that night of the Senior Prom; her first experience. The Nymph's magic had given...




Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 05



"WHA-WHOA!" she yelped, as the first jolts of sensation throbbed from her pussy. Her moistening twat was electrified with sensation....tension....need....images flashed through Jamie's mind, as she rubbed her vibrant blond hair from her eyes. Penises, muscular chests, and hairy arms flashed in her mind's eye, accompanied by electric jolts of fiery passion. She wanted cocks; she wanted to be penetrated in every hole of her newly-youthened body. She wanted to wash her face in semen. The next pulse of lust almost brought her to her knees with pleasure. Her heart began throbbing in her chest; aware of all the men, so many men out there...just out the doors of the emergency exit. The once unthinkable notion of prostitution gave her a joyous thrill; it would be so easy.....

"Wow!" exclaimed the youthened Jamie Hardwick. "I'm a SLUT!" she exclaimed. Her breasts, warm and tight, seemed to swell, to expand another half-an-inch; she was not done yet; not finished becoming what the magic had made her. As she stumbled to the door, a new seriousness overcame her; she had been given this body for a task. She had her youth back; but now she had to produce! It was as if Nature itself was giving her a second chance so long as she would mate, and breed. She straightened herself with renewed resolve; her thoughts bent on reproduction, paying back her debt to Life itself. Jamie gurgled in bliss at the coming reality of her new role, sperm, penises filling her, seeding her with life! On her back; and with her womb she would repay this debt! 

With wild abandon, she leapt towards the exit....and bumped right into that surly, purple-haired pixie! What was her name? Tits...or something....What a strange, angry pixie. She had been in and out of one of the dressing room all day; Had not participated in the Orgy, and was looking suspicious, as if hiding...concealing something...

"Watch it Human!" snarled the fae. But Jamie was past being offended; past anger. She neither knew nor cared what the pixie was up to; it was a new day, a new life. Unlike these foolish Bosom Builders, she would not try to control or restrain the Breeding Lust; but rather embrace it! Out the Emergency Exit; into the sunlight...into the arms of....well...almost any man would do; so long as his cock was hard and his sperm could swim. Who cares what that pixie is doing....... 

**********

Daryd was smarter than her sisters; she knew better how to use the natural, racial-memory that burned in her blood. While this new world was strange, frightening, and largely incomprehensible; it was filled to overflowing with Essence. She could smell them from miles away; the briefest whiff causing spasms of tingling growth in the Lures on her chest. Barefoot, Daryd approached the vast, circular building, a large display marked with the symbols, (COLLISEUM) beckoned her. She had no clue yet what the symbols meant, but the overpowering draw of so much essence compelled her with such feral hunger, that she could not turn her feet around even had she tried.

She knew she was smarter than her sisters, simply because she did not abandon herself into the madness of her Hunger. Before venturing into this strange world, she took a second to think about her actions. Dydra, her sister, and a few others simply ran to and fro, tackling the Essence wherever they found it; ruled only by the Hunger, unable to resist the vast legions of Essence that roamed free here.

But Daryd knew better; before hunting for the Essence herself, she had masturbated for many seconds while watching the Essence moving around in this world, on these strange, stone ribbons that blanketed the land. From racial-memory, concepts came to her. Those things that walked around with no Essence were.....female.....like Daryd and her sisters. But the others, those that walked with the Essence were......m-m...mmmm-mmm....

"MALE!" she shrieked; provoking a curious glance from the Essence standing in front of the entry to this circular construct. But Daryd was smarter than the rest; she had learned the secret to moving about in this strange world. Though it pained her to do so, she...she had covered her nakedness! None of the females she'd seen traveled naked, thus in a burst of cunning, Daryd realized that neither should she!

**********

Brock thought he was prepared. He'd gone to one of those really big high schools, with enough Fae students to allow the different species to gather into social clubs. Brock thought he knew what to expect from them. He remembered his old biology class when he had to sit between those three mermaids. They thought it was hilarious to release their mating musk all at the same time, trying to start classroom orgies. Brock had learned how to ride out the storm; not that he didn't like them, His beefy build and square-jawed masculinity secured him lots of faerie attention. But in the modern world; men that could withstand a burst of magical pheromones or the occasional glamour spell were highly sought after.

Brock thought he knew the secret; when some giggling mermaid, (or nymph....or pixie...or elf) unleashed her sexual attractant, you just had to not think about it...think about anything else...the weather...the stock market....Brock knew he shouldn't look at the slender, gorgeous fae girl that was leering openly at him. He should not marvel at the air-brushed perfection of her silken skin. He should not dream of tearing off the flimsy towel she had tied around her wide hips and mounting her. He should not stare at the swaying globs of rounded titflesh dancing hypnotically before him, nor must he bury his face in her tousled mane of forest green hair.

But Brock knew he was in trouble when he saw the leer on her chiseled face. She was of uncertain heritage; her eyes and face seemed a touch caucasian, with a hint of asian, with that smooth, almost liquid perfection one would expect of a nymph...er...she was a nymph...wasn't she? She had the green hair, yet no flower... But...her face, it was a hungry, predatory craving reflected in those vividly green eyes... That was different; most fae has this frivolous, care-free lasciviousness that made them treat almost everything as a joke. They were all filled with this indecent urge to submit themselves for impregnation by almost any available male; which was great fun to them. Not now, not her. The slender fae confronting him was consumed with passion, it was clear that her pussy burned with a ferocious craving that could not be denied. This was not a flighty fairy that would submit herself giggling to the thrusts of a man's penis; this was a sex-creature that would claim him for her own. If she'd been merely a slut, with potent musk, Brock could have endured her advances....but this wasn't the same, the green-haired beauty was resolute, she would have his penis inside her. He would be suckling her golden nipples. He would blow his load, ejaculating into her throbbing cunt as her womanly sanctum devoured his spurting gift of virile potential. She would not take 'no' for an answer, and there was no escape.

**********

He had a job to do, didn't he? Like Brock, Ray was here for.....what was he doing here? It seemed hard to remember, hard to care after these strange, naked, faerie sluts attacked the auditorium in mass. Yes....that was it...he was a bouncer....meant to...yes..to maintain security...it was hard to think...hard to care... He Ray had been about to grasp one of the slender, unnaturally gorgeous fae creatures by her wrist to keep her out of the building, until the enchantment.

You could tell it was magic; she postured her nude form, almost defensively, and Ray's world shrank. This terrible, slutty, naked sex monster suddenly seemed to exude eroticism and appeal; her appearance changed; yet did not change. Somehow, she now seemed the most impossibly seductive and attractive creature Ray could have ever imagined. It was like turning on a switch; one moment, she was no more appealing than the best looking human supermodel after several hours at a salon; the next second, as she strutted, thrusting out graceful hips, curvaceous legs, and the D-cup teardrop shapes of perfect bosoms, she became a primal element. A simmering jolt of lustful longing battered down Ray's consciousness. The fae; once merely deliciously beautiful, was now radiating a seductive aura so powerful that his eyes could not seem to take it all in. Ray needed to stare, to drink in the impossible creature's magic.

He did not remember disrobing; he couldn't think about where his pants and shirt were. He could only gaze at slim splendour of her fine hand as she yanked at the annoying entrapment of his underwear. The touch of her skin was pure electric delight. Ray hoped that she was pleased with vast span of his broad shoulders; yes he did have some love-handles; but he thought the tight musculature on his thick arms, combined with the chiseled ferocity of his blue-eyed gaze made up for it. Nor did most women complain as they rubbed fingers through the spiky crew-cut of his reddish orange hair. Would this one, this fae girl be so accomodating? Her golden eyes did not hold the coy, flirtatious approval of a human woman; her reaction was more like that of a starving man within arm's reach of a sirloin steak. As the fondling, licking, groping, and grunting began; Ray couldn't help but notice the sprawled coupling including Brock and another of the ethereal sluts.

His pleasure-drugged brain took serveral moments to register the danger, yet in his delirium it took several precious moments to make the connection. Brock was changing; his beefy arms becoming smaller, slimmer. His bald head rapidly sprouted several inches of blond hair it was as if....as if the mass of his male frame was shifting to...to his chest? The sex-monster writhing, moaning, flailing upon his throbbing penis emanated a magical green glow from her hands as she caressed him...changed him? But Ray could dwell on it no longer as his own assault began.

At the quivering junction between the sexes of man and fae, searing eruptions of blissful torture pummeled Ray's mind, until his lust-laden brain could do little but gurgle and grunt. Tingling currents of magic tantalized him, as she ran her fae fingers over his hairy, toughened skin. He could not remember, could not think if he laid upon the softer, manicured grass, or the unyielding grit of the paved sidewalk. The throbbing, erotic lightning of the mating with this demon of lust overpowered any sensation of pain, worry, or warning. 

Though Ray's eyes were wide open, and though he was close by, he did not see Brock's fate, he could not register Brocks hastening transformation from beefy bouncer, to smooth-skinned sexpot. With a series of throbs and jiggles, a muscled chest became a bounteous bosom, globes of feminine flesh jiggling like rosy-tipped cereal bowls. The dense stockiness of developed arms became the graceful, pampered limbs more fitting for an actress or model; as hairy legs became toned towers of slender smoothness. With a moist pop, two engorged vaginas disengaged, tangy girl-cum spattering the inside of each pair of sleek thighs. 

"MALE...GONE...." announced the green-haired, naked fairy. "M-MORE...NEED MORE...MALE!!!" she gurgled; clutching her slathering cunt as the simultaneous orgasms rocked both her, and her formerly male partner. Everywhere, across the grounds in front of the vast stadium hosting the Bosom Builders competition the scene was the same. The exotic fae females lured their partners with an impossible erotic glamour of such enchanted power, that even knowing your fate did not allow resistance. Shocked men, coming and going through the front entrance gazed in excitement, confusion, then horror at what resulted from the spontaneous orgy. Yet all the creatures had to do was strut, display their rapturous nudity with a toss of vibrant green hair and a jiggle of her naked tits, and the spell took hold. Their prey could not help but come running to embrace the creatures; wanting the mating, the contact more than life itself, more than every promise or obligation they were bound to.

And in each case, where man and woman had coupled, soon enough two vaginas would release with a pop, rapid orgasms seizing both females. In desperate panic, the newly-minted women clutched, groping their bodies, their boobs and cunts. After the full draining, it took a few more moments for the full feminizing to take effect. The gentle, green slopes were soon strewn with naked, masturbating sex-pots grunting wildly as their breasts filled out, asses and hips swelling to reach a height of female fertility. 

If the victims of this enchanted seduction had been lucid enough to study the orgiastic proceedings, they would see that not every man's fate was identical. The naked, female slut that Brock had become grunted in distress as another woman accidentally jostled her in panicked flight. The auburn-haired beauty was naked from the waist down, yet still retained a deep blue buttoned shirt and badge that marked her as what remained of one of the officers assigned to assist with security. Jutting boobs strained the tortured buttons as the over-endowed former cop struggled to adjust to her new stature. It was as if the tallest, mightiest, most brutish men became the shortest, most voluptuous women. Her plump ass and ripe thighs cast an absurd image that would prevent any lawbreaker from ever taking her seriously.

Another, new fae with green hair plastered to her delicate face with the sweat of exertion attracted attention with the volume of her lusting grunts. She dug her nails into the chest of the man she straddled, an older, greying patriarch just old enough to be a grandfather, yet still with masculine vigor; which was swiftly fleeing him, as the fairy whore fed upon his male essence. When the two spasming pussies disengaged at last, the feeding complete, decades of wrinkles, callouses, scars and muscle were consumed in the process, leaving a freckle-faced slip of a girl seeming to be little older than a high-school cheerleader. The young slut shuddered in ecstasy not only from her apple-sized tits filling out into a respectable D-cup, but also from the quivering spasms of climax erupting within her fresh, new cunt. Both cunts, the ecstasy of the Dryad's sexual feeding process was if anything even stronger for the prey than for the predator.

Throughout the grounds the scene repeated itself; the orgasms began almost as soon as the penis had penetrated the wanton love-slits of the sex-monsters, yet the consumption continued for a little less than a minute. Everywhere, manly features of the face and body melting into female softness. Each victim experienced several inches of hair growth quickly, followed by the swelling, gorging, expansion of ripe, womanly tits as her new body adjusted to the magic. Brock shook her head in wonder at this sight...yet...no....the rush of hormones that sizzled into her brain had already begun melting away her male personality...she was...Bro...Br....Brenda? Yes...that was better. Had Brenda been more observant at that moment, she might have concluded that the feeding process of these fairy predators seemed to thoroughly inverse the male victims into women nearly as different as possible. As it was, Brenda would take some time to leap to this realization, since it was all she could do now to stop fondling her own sopping wet cunt, exploring the folds and ridges of her new, well-lubricated sex.

Ray....or the woman that was once Ray, clutched her blossoming chest in disbelief, the pale mounds of womanhood were feverishly hot as they rose and swelled, to the sizes of fruit-halves, sprouting to the width and size of full coconuts, and as she arched her back, her teats leapt and wobbled, as if shaking off the last vestiges of her old life, onward and upwards towards breast sizes to shame a 20th century stripper. Soon, her grasping hands were nearly buried as the engorging bosoms swelled above, between, and beyond her clutching fingers. Ray's vision blurred for a moment, as a tremendous overdose of female hormones immersed her brain. No...not Ray...anymore...she was...Ra....Rita....

Rita could feel her expanding breasts bulging and widening upwards and outwards, increasing mass propelling each teat ever larger, towards total domination of her chest....and her new life. These were the breasts of a porn goddess! Breasts to kindle endless lust in men, and perhaps women. Was there hope, was there a life for her beyond what most Fae preferred? Would she become a wandering, irresponsible whoreslut like so many of them?

The very thought made Rita's naked pussy moisten yet again.

**********

"Those little....those horny bastards! This has gone too far!!" shrieked Cindy, fumbling through her towels and assorted possessions scattered across the smooth cement of the swimming pool area. It was just one spell after another! One sick, immature prank after the next; over and over. Cindy gave up, slapping at the deck angrily; there was no helping it, her bikini bottoms had been stolen. 

She had endured worse than this, however. Her high-cheekbones, radiant auburn hair and smoothly elegant facial features would have made her the target of much unwanted affection even in the 20th Century; but these days, her statuesque figure and sculpted beauty made her the target of and endless array of sexual pranks with both magical and mundane dimensions to their humor. 

The new, wondrous age of magic and myth was hardly a paradise for her; Cindy never risked using magic for her own purposes, to beautify herself as so many others did. She used the odd spell or charm strictly for defense. Her senior year in high school was an ensorceled prison of enchantment and lust. Every other day; some pimply freshmen felt the need to target HER with the latest libido spell, another potion of infinite lust, and various love, attraction, and devotion incantations. But neither did Cindy have refuge from the other girls; their raging jealousy was just as much a curse. After all these years, she was still convinced that Stacy Cartwright was the one that slipped her that lactation potion in the cafeteria before the big English exam.

No, for Cindy, magic was purely defensive. She never neglected to wear the very best amulets of resistance, most of her clothes had spell-alerts woven in to warn against unwanted enchantment of the wearer; and she could perform the most potent libido suppresant Ward allowed in her State, often known as the 'Cold Shower' spell, in her sleep. She was lucky in that despite everything, she could still squeeze herself into most bras made for unaltered women. Her tits where no larger than coconuts, fortunate in this day and age. Heh! She could have ended up like that poor Violet girl! That bitch could barely walk, with those beachballs on her chest! 

Still, after all these years, Cindy should have been a hard target. Only the most cunning and horny Satyrs could slip past her layers of sexual defenses. Yet somehow, despite everything. Some sicko had still managed to steal the bottom of her bikini, she had dozed off, but had been wearing it at the time! Not just her; all her girlfriends sun-bthing with her, they all had awakened to bare pussies, naked to the wind and sun. Who knows how long the peepshow lasted for any guys that might have been watching! Not that this was such a serious crime, but it was the principle of the thing! What did she have to do to protect herself from these magical pervs? 

But that was when the rumbling began. And the footsteps, the heavy footsteps from within the 8-story hotel that rose up around them on all sides, encircling the swimming pool. Past the doors that led towards the lobby; Cindy and her friends could hear the ruckus. Feminine screams, sounds of heavy footfalls; a low grunt of beastial savagery, and a single word; a single, commanding word that communicated volumes both with its thunderous intonation, and its simplistic brevity.