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Siren Song Ch. 01

By: PaulGerard



Siren Song, Part 1 — Home By The Sea

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

Four parts, an epilogue and a bonus story. At least that's the plan. No promises, though.

Also, it's a slow start. No need to go looking for the mermaid in this part yet.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

First Draft started 2008-06-17, this one 2012-05-04

Spellchecked: by computer.

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to Merkava IV and CoffeePilot for their time and patience.

~

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

Part 1: Home by the Sea

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"A siren from the deep / came to me / sang my name / my longing ..." -- Nightwish, Ghost Love Score

~

Chapter 1: On The Beach

~

The sand was warm under her naked feet and the high cliffs shielded the beach from the constant wind. Sunlight sparkled on the gently rolling ripples. Seagulls screeching in the distance and the lulling noise of the waves were the only sounds.

Barbara pulled the scarf from her head and ran her fingers through her long blond hair. A few strands danced over her eyes as she stared out at the endless sea. The mooring of her groom's fishing boat was empty. Later this afternoon, onshore winds would carry Dave's cockleshell boat back to his lovely, love-hungry bride. Their secret marriage was almost a year old now, yet routine hadn't settled in. Couldn't settle in, but Barbara didn't want to think about that just now.

She slipped her dress' straps off her shoulders and let her arms hang down. Bereft of support and with nothing on her lithe body protruding far enough for the coarse linen to get caught on, it tickled down her skin and crumpled around her feet. Barbara stepped out of the small circle of bleached cloth and towards the gray boulders that littered the bright sand at the water's edge.

The clear water was not warm by any stretch, but still warmer than she had expected it to be. She waded in until it just barely licked against her crotch's blond curls. The light, repeating touch sent shivers up her spine. Barbara cupped her nervous sex in her palm and kneaded her slim labia to quell her growing arousal. Lowering herself into the blue, she began swimming with long strokes, and the whirling currents forming between her legs soothed the sensuous tickling as the cool water sucked the heat from her hungry flesh.

Several dozen yards out the waters were too deep to stand, and the ocean floor turned from bright sand into darker cobbles, overgrown with seaweed. The temperature dropped further. Barb didn't care much. "Fishblood" wasn't the nicest of nicknames, but the young woman had to admit it wasn't all that undeserved. Her habit of going for a half-hour swim in mid-January was unusual, even for a lass from a long line of weather-hardened fishermen and pearl diving women. Now, in late May, she felt like she could keep on swimming forever.

~

Something rough yet slimy touched her leg. Barbara jerked away and pulled up her thighs. Salty cold hit her face and blinded her for a moment. Coughing and sputtering, she turned on the spot and caught sight of a dark shadow moving under her.

The water stung in her eyes as she submerged her face and forced her eyelids open. In her blurred vision, she saw a pulsating, sparkling bundle struggling beneath her legs, rolling back and forth over the ocean floor with the waves' currents. She took a deep breath and dove the couple of feet. Her fingers touched a delicate mesh of strands. Barbara grabbed it and pulled it after her towards the beach.

~

It was a tangled net, filled with the biggest, most impressive catch of fish Barbara had ever seen. Now that it no longer floated in the water, Barbara's strength wasn't enough to lift it. Trapped by the tightly woven fibers, the fish inside were but a gasping, writhing mass of scales sparkling in silver and gold. She dragged it back into the water and tied the unexpected gift to one of the poles of the small pier before she laid herself down to dry on the warm, bleached wood.

Dave's going to be so proud, she grinned. Besides, that's a net much better than his patched old one with the holes and the rotted threads. But where did it come from?

Barbara propped herself up on her elbows. Her eyes searched the horizon. No sail, no ship, just that distant line separating water from sky. She rolled over from her back to her belly, let her hand hang down to the licking waves and traced the intricate weaving of the thin but strong fibers. Seeing them finished, the knots made perfect sense, but neither she nor any of the weavers from the small town nearby would've put them where they were.

Must've come loose from some passing ship. That's no workmanship from around our coast, Barbara mused. Ah, finders keepers, losers weepers.

~

The boat rocked as David turned about and cast his net out to where he knew the school of fish to be. He could see them sparkling just under the surface, and his aim was impeccable. And yet, like the ten times he had tried before, the net he drew back in was empty. He cursed. This was going to be another one of those days.

The splash and wooden thud behind him made him spin around. Trying to escape back into the water, a plump fish the size of his arm slapped about on the planks.

"Oh no you won't," snarled Dave and dumped the whole net on his accidental catch. "If only so I don't come home empty-handed!"

~

Barbara caught the rope that David threw at her and tied it down to their small dock. Her husband's face told her all she needed to know.

"Another bad day?" she asked anyway.

He nodded.

"Well, almost," Dave added with a smile and pulled up his net with his catch. "We might not have something to sell today, but at least we'll have something to eat."

"Oh, you'll be surprised," laughed Barbara and led him down to the waterline. "Care to lend me a hand? I've found something to make you happy."

"Barbara," he intoned with mock seriousness and took in the sight of her slender body. "Shameless girl, you can't do that, not out in the open in the middle of a sunny day!"

"What? Oh you big klutz, it's not all about your marvelous manhood! I'll get to that later," she smirked back. "I've done a bit of fishing by myself without even trying, and I got very lucky."

~

"Oh yes, you're my good-luck charm," he groaned through gritted teeth as he struggled to get the bundle of net and fish out of the water. "Let's sort them apart and put them into the baskets until the trader comes by."

Barbara waded out into the surf, grabbed the ropes of the line of willow baskets floating just beneath the surface and pulled them in.

"Haven't seen this kind around here before," Dave mused. "They're a lively bunch."

He bowed down and grabbed a gold-scaled, foot-long fish with both hands. Moments later, he spat and snorted and wiped saltwater from his face. "Lively all right. You're first in line for dinner now!"

"That's why I didn't put my clothes back on," laughed Barbara, her skin dripping and droplets running down her lithe, toned figure as the frenzied mass of fins sprayed water all around.

"Oh, really? It wasn't to cheer up your husband?" he snickered back as she circled him to pick up the next box. Dave jerked as Barbara's hand sneaked up from behind, ran up the inside of his left leg and took a determined, cupped hold of his privates.

"You really need any more cheering up?" she breathed, leaning her willowy shape on him.

"I can always do with some more cheering up, love," he whispered back. "And soaked all the way through like I am now, I'll need to get naked and lay out all my clothes to dry."

"How ... convenient," Barbara rasped back.

She let go and straightened. "Let's get the catch sorted first. Don't want your dangle to get chewed on by anyone but me, and those fishes, they've got sharp teeth," laughed the young woman. "Well, might not be such a bad idea to have your enormous rod pruned a bit, given that it's almost our anniversary yet we haven't managed to put it all the way into me, eh?"

"Ouch! You've got a nasty mind, wife!" grimaced Dave.

"Just can't bear the waiting," she laughed with just a hint of unease.

~

"There, that's the last one," whispered Barbara. Her slender fingers spread Dave's shirt and pulled it off his shoulders. "And now —"

"— The womb?" he inquired, closing his strong arms around her. His hands wandered down her back and traced the depressions at the root of her spine.

"I could ride you right here and now," she offered before she closed his mouth with her lips again. Her next sound was a moan through her nose as his fingers grabbed her firm buttocks and lifted her higher. Trapped between their bodies, Dave's warm, swelling rod pushed against her curls-covered mons veneris. She secured herself on his hips, drawing up her thighs and clamping him in their vise. "Heavens, I'm all wet inside and out. Today's the day! I can feel it, today I'll take you to the hilt!"

Dave carried her over to the cliff's face. Over the course of the centuries the winter's high tides had washed out a chain of caves, some huge as houses, some just a few hand's widths high. The ceiling of the one they called "the womb" reached to Barbara's hip, went into the rock a dozen feet deep and spread just wide enough for a couple to lay side by side.

Barbara clung to her husband's chest and hips as he went down on hands and knees and crawled into the darkness of their love nest. Dave lowered his muscular weight on her, and Barbara squealed with delight as she became embossed into the ground and the clean, cool, soft sand shaped itself around her back and buttocks, holding her in place.

"Slowly, dear," she moaned as he inched down and his twitching rod slid over her lower belly. The engorged head wandered over her bud. She slanted her hips forward. The warm peach-sized cone lodged itself between her slim outer lips.

"Still too tight," Barbara wailed as his first thrust ran painfully against her narrow gap. "Oh Dave, I — nnngh! — I'm just too tight! But I don't want to wait any more!" She grabbed his fat manhood with both hands and pushed. Groaning and spreading her legs wide, Barbara worked the stiff pole over her pink gap. It squeezed into her, opening her further. She gained half an inch, then another, but the delight turned into stinging pain before she even managed to cram the glans into her, and she let go, tears of anger welling in her eyes.

Dave rolled his weight off her slender frame. She turned her back on him and slammed her fist into the sand.

"Not again," she growled through gritted teeth. "Why am I so tiny down there? I'm useless as your wife, Dave! I'm just a disfigured freak!And here I've got the most glorious man in all the shire, but I can't — I'm — mmh! — ahh!"  

His right hand ran from her hips up to her chest. Dave gently pulled her close, spooning her. His left hand traced her buttocks, found their crack and slipped between her legs. Well-lubed skin parted around his middle finger. He dipped his fingertip into the tight, wrinkled entrance and marched on.

"Not in the mood, Dave," snarled the disappointed young woman.

He leaned over and kissed her shoulder while his fingers twisted her hard nipples ever so gently.

"Just let me soothe your poor little castle gate," he whispered. "It's been so brave and defiant again, it deserves some reward."

"Sheesh! I wish it would just give in." Barbara's fingers drummed impatiently on the sand. "This itching, it's so deep inside, I just can't scratch it. Week after week after week! Maybe I really should have a chat with old Miss Mawson, the midwive's got to have the knowings about how women are supposed to be opened."

Dave's moistened finger slid over her pee hole and circled the swollen clit. Barbara gasped for air. That cheeky finger, it went round and round, it didn't let up.

"Dave, stop it!"

"It doesn't hurt, does it?"

She shook her head. "No, it's just wasted time, dear."

"Is it? A fisherman's got to be nothing if not patient. And round and round again —"

~

Barbara sighed and listened to the gentle noise of the waves. Yeah, alright, so Dave liked to feel her body. And it was kind of nice, just resting in this secluded hideaway, cuddling with her lovable hunk of over-hung husband. And his fingers were tender in their constant circling, but really, what for —

A warm, wet itching. It started right at the center of the tiny circles Dave kept on drawing. From right in her bud, it spread deeper into Barbara's flesh.

"Gods! Dave —"

Barbara raised her leg and gave him room to reach further.

"Oh gods! Dave, you've done it again, you — yuuuh — huuuh! Mmmmwaaah—!"

She groped blindly behind her back, and he crawled higher until Barbara managed to grab his twitching appendage to return his favors.

"Gently, Barb —"

"Mnnngh Dave —"

Round and round.

"D—aaahyve!"

Round and round and round. Each turn kept adding to that strange heat in her womb. Warmer and warmer.

"Dave, I — Aaiiih! — Catching fire!"

She grabbed his dick hard, and he changed the angle of his hand.

"Dave! 'ayve! 'ayyyyve! 'ayve!"

Barbara bucked on his palm. His forefinger took over and kept on circling her swollen, engorged knob.

"Hhhhayyve! Hhaah—!"

His middle finger slid back down and spread her narrow gate. One knuckle, two knuckles, up and down her moist cleft, in and out the tight hole. Barbara's hips rocked back and forth, and while her one hand milked her man's stiff cock, the other's fingers caressed her delirious face as her husband finger-fucked her to orgasm.

"Fire — burnyyyyying — fiiyyyyyaaaahhh!"

Her tight, wet tube flexed and cramped around his probing digit.

"Aaaayyyvvve!"

~

Spent, Barbara slumped down and trapped his hand between her thighs.

"Dave — Dave —," she moaned blissfully. Pre-cum coated her palm and lubed her sliding, milking grasp. Recovering from her wrecking climax, she slid her hand up and down his painfully hard erection faster.

"Barb — raah!"

Her slender fingers were spread apart as David's organ throbbed fatter still in her grip. Thick, warm spurts filled her palm, and a few drops squirted over her buttocks. He sagged down, gasping for air.

"I'm — sorry — just — couldn't hold — out," he managed.

"Good enough for me," Barbara panted and only slowly caught her breath. "Tomorrow's another day," she smiled as she turned around to hug him. "Tomorrow, we'll manage to get together properly."

~

Chapter 2: Surprise Filling

~

Barbara slid her fried dinner from the cast-iron pan onto her wooden plate. Hissing and blowing on her fingertips every now and then, she scraped the golden scales from the fish.

"They come off easy enough. And the flesh feels nice and firm. More like fowl than fish."

"No." Dave reached out and held her wrist just as she was about to put the white meat into her mouth.

"Mwa?"

"It might be poison. Better just take little bite and wait."

"It's no snake, Dave," smiled Barbara.

"Doesn't make much of a difference. Remember poor Cal? And he only stepped on a thornback."

"All right, all right." She sighed and held the lump up to her husband's mouth. "Let me guess. You're going to say tasting it is your responsibility, too?"

"Thafs exfak — hot hot hot! Ouch! — emmfaf — yeech!" He spat the tiny bite right back out and made his worst face. "Eeyuck! It's disgusting! Thank goodness we haven't sold it to anyone! What vile taste is this?"

"Huh? It smelled so good in the pan! Let me —" She tore another minuscule bite from the bones. "I mean, look at it! None of those ugly tiny fish bones. It's made to be eaten, can't you see?" Barbara chewed slowly. "And what are you complaining about? Tastes great! Much better than the blue snappers! Gonna be my new favorite."

"Still, no," Dave insisted. His wife sighed and gave in.

~

The horizon lit up slowly and changed from dark blue into red, then orange. The first rays of sunlight crept in through the wooden blinds.

Barbara's fingers drummed on the frame of the bed. She turned over halfway and watched her husband as he woke up. A little twitch went through his body when he found her impatiently staring at him.

"Right, so it's morning, and none of us had the runs. So, not poison. Happy? Can I eat it now?" she inquired.

"You're up already?"

"Just so you know it, I haven't slept for a moment. Leaving this delicacy getting cold on the table, it's torture."

"Oh all right." Dave playfully shoved his complaining wife. "Just keep that stinky-fish away from me. And here I was so sure I knew what you liked."

In a heartbeat, Barbara was out of bed and hunkered naked over the table, dived into the cold fish with both hands and wolfed it down. "Mwall fe mwore for mwe fen," she mumbled with bulging cheeks.

Dave laughed and caressed her slender back.

"Don't stuff yourself too much, dear. I'm going down to the boat, need to fix the old net and see what I can do with the new one. Give me a yell when the trader comes by, willya?"

~

Barbara wiped her mouth and slumped back on the chair. She patted her belly that didn't feel all that stuffed despite the huge dish she had just devoured.

"Filling, you ain't," she sighed and cast a disappointed look at the heap of fishbones by the plate. Her eyes wandered over to the three other fishes.

"Good thing you brought company," smiled the young woman. Barbara got up and reached for Dave's accidental catch and the cutlery.

~

The gutting knife went tink as it hit something hard in the fish's bowels.

"What the —?" muttered Barbara. Her fingers spread the gaping cut. Even in the low light of the kitchen, the thing inside the fish sparkled. She pulled out the strange lump and rinsed it in the bucket by her side.

"A pendant?" Her mouth spread into a wide grin. "Oh Dave," she cooed to her absent husband. "You shouldn't have!"

It was made of silver, or at least something silvery, because it wasn't stained at all but shone like freshly polished. Intricate strands of the sparkling metal were woven around a central stone of deep blue. A circle of smaller blue stones framed the bas-relief of two whales, chasing each other in an endless circle around the blue center. Barbara was sure she had never seen something so beautiful. She ran the glittering chain through her fingers, and it felt slick like the thinnest snake.


Siren Song Ch. 01



"Can't keep secrets from your wife, you lovable oaf, you. Got my birthday gift early," she snickered and threw glances around. "I'll put it on just to see if it fits —"

It jingled faintly when she drew it over her head. The cool touch at the onset of her flat breasts gave her goosebumps, and Barbara reached instinctively for the edge of the table as a waft of vertigo passed over her.

I'll put it back into the fish before Dave returns, she mused. Don't want to spoil his fun. Gonna fry one of the others instead.

Barbara turned around and leaned over the table. Stretching to reach out, her mound of venus scrubbed over the edge. The young woman jerked back and curled up, not because of pain, but transfixed by a bolt of raw lust that filled her head to toe in an instant. Her hands, driven by reflex, cupped her crotch. Through the rough cloth, her palms rubbed the warm, swelling flesh. Her fingers started to knead.

"Gods," she moaned. The cloth turned dark with wetness. She couldn't stop digging her fingers into the spreading, bulging dome between her legs. The rising tide of sensual fire filled her womb, and there was so little room. So little room...

Panting, she bent her knees. Her lust overflowed, it dripped through the soaked wrinkles of cloth in her grip and spilled over her fingers. More and more of the lubricating moisture came, it licked against the dams of her flesh in rising waves. It made way, pushing Barbara's skin out, stretching her.

So much, she thought, unable to articulate words over her groaning and panting. Her right hand's fingers wandered higher and traced her bulging lower belly. Her dress was tight around her now flaring, womanly hips, and still there was more of this strange volume, of her materializing urges. Red, hot and engorging, her lust bud pushed through the meaty curtains of her inner labia and rubbed into the soaked cloth. Her outer lips swelled and reddened, rising and plumping, turning her pubic mound into a mere promontory for the expanding bulges framing her moist, tight hole.

Barbara's left hand barely fit over her crotch now. Spreading her gap with one hand, her fingertips dipped into the boiling pink, and she pinched the protruding head of her swollen clit between her thumb and the side of her palm —

~

"Barbara! Barbara, wake up!" Dave's warm hand held her shoulder and shook her gently. His voice was half-strangled with concern.

"D — Dave? Back already?" She rolled to her side. "What are you doing here? What am — why am I on the floor?!"

"You tell me! I just came back and found you lying there, as though struck by lightning! And you've got quite the bruise on your forehead. And what's this about 'already'? I've been gone two hours!"

Barbara held her temples and frowned.

"No, can't be — I was just, just moments ago —"

She clambered to her feet and straightened down her drawn-up dress. Her hands lingered on her waist a little longer and traced the arches of her hip bones through the cloth and the thin layer of flesh.

Why am I doing this? she wondered absent-mindedly, then shook her head. Nothing wrong with their slender shape, but her whole hip felt sore.

"I — I can't remember. I was just tidying up a bit. Must've slipped and bumped my head." She nudged his arm. "Just like when you keeled overboard, eh? You didn't recall what you did wrong, either."

Dave drew a face. "I'm never going to live that one down, am I?"

Barb pecked a kiss on his cheek. "No you won't, because that day I made the biggest catch of my life," she smiled. "And now let me put away the dishes. What time is it anyway?" She followed the beams of light that came in from the open window. The top left corner of the rays touched the right leg of the table, so —

"Lunchtime? How long have I been out? Oh damnation! Hurry, Dave! Firewood, and hop to it!"

"Yes, my captain," he smirked.

~

"Still, I've got the strangest thing to tell y—," Dave started, but hesitated and stared at her chest. His puzzled smile turned into a frown.

"What's that thing you're wearing?"

"Thing —?" Barbara's hand flew up and patted her almost-cleavage. She felt the chain and the cool metal, and guilt rushed into her features. "Oh Dave, I meant to put it back! It's just so beautiful! Don't be mad because I found your gift before my birthday! Then again, you shouldn't have hidden it in the very fish you gave me."

"Gift—? Barbara, I don't know where it came from. Let me see it. It sure isn't from me," he replied and paused. And, more quietly, he added, "I'm sorry. I could never afford such an expensive gem. But it looks truly fine on you. You look just like a princess now."

His hands traced her narrow waist. Barbara shivered with delight as his fingers wandered higher and across the flatness — the almost flatness —

"You've become rounder," he smiled and flicked a finger at her right nipple that showed through the rough cloth. "It has found a nice warm home, that trinket."

He turned the sparkling jewelry in his fingers and shook his head.

"Never seen anything like that. And you say it was in the fish?"

She stroked his cheek. "Didn't you tell me there's all those wrecks from the old Empire's harbor out at the reef up the coast? Maybe the big snappers are like magpies of the sea and it swallowed the trinket just because it's shiny. I mean, some of our catches had stones in their bellies, the daft beasts."

"Magpie fish," Dave replied flatly and slanted an eyebrow.

"Why not? It's not like you never brought home strange catches before. The magpie one, then the big golden ones from the new net — maybe we're just having a winning streak."

Dave shrugged. "I'm just not used to winning streaks. Then again, just this morning —"

Barbara hugged him. "Oh dearie, don't worry. I don't care where it came from. It'll always be your gift to me. Don't be sad."

She let go and straightened herself, raising a finger.

"Still, Dave, firewood! Get going!"

~

Chapter 3: An Afternoon Of Fun

~

Sitting back at the table while Barbara went ahead with the cooking, Dave made another try.

"I got to tell you about what happened just this morning, dear. Now that was weird. I hardly needed to go out more than a couple hundred yards into the sea, and the net was full. The baskets are overflowing with those new golden fishes. It's like a swarm of them settled in our bay."

No reply.

"Barbara?"

"Huh? Oh, I was just lost in thoughts." She spun around in front of her husband. "Be honest. Do you notice anything odd about me?"

"Should I? Apart from you being more gorgeous than ever, my princess?"

"Quit that, Dave." She shook her head. "Nah, just can't shake something you said earlier, about rounder. I'm just — I feel like I've put on a little weight. I mean, I ate another of those golden ones for breakfast, but they just aren't all that filling. Thy don't seem to be, at least. Am I getting fat without noticing? You'd tell me if I got fat like Molly Haskings, wouldn't you?" Her hands rubbed down her lithe shape, drew up her skirt and clamped around her right thigh. "Mh, doesn't feel any thicker, though. It's just my clothes began pinching in a few places. Maybe I should hold out on them for a day or two."

"On the clothes?" he winked. "Sure, why not. Don't mind me."

"No, you dolt! The fishes. Don't want to fatten myself into an old bloated matron before my time."

"Oh come on, Barbara." David smiled. "You're slender as ever." He placed a cupped hand on her flat chest and grinned. "These here, though, that's where the meat went, eh?"

Barbara slapped him playfully. "You wish! I know it didn't."

"Seriously, dear. There's just a little bit more of you to love now," he grinned and poked her chest with his forefinger.

"Don't you mock me, or I'll stop trying to stuff your giant man-snake into my little cave. You knew what you were getting when you married me. If you want to rub melons, go outside and take care of the garden!"

"Can do," he offered.

"No, just kidding. Go to your boat, I'll manage," Barbara laughed.

Need two hands on my hips and your third leg between mine, sang her thoughts. She blushed, but something in the back of her mind went on and on.

Horny. Oh Dave, just say a word, do a thing, just show me you want me now. I need it, on the spot! I'm ready! I'm wide for you! Wider than ever! I'm all wet for you, wet for you to all the better slide inside me! I can take you now, I know it! Forget your boat, stay and do me instead! Do me through to the hilt!

She shook her head.

No, this isn't right. Need to do — the dishes. I need — Dun-de-dun-dun-de—

Barbara started humming a little tune to shut up her salacious thoughts.

Dave hesitated in the doorway. Slowly, he turned back again and stared at the sight of his wife leaning over the kitchen table. She bent her left leg to keep her balance, and as she did, her rear clenched up a little bit. He never noticed before how that movement turned her dress taut, spanning over the best pair of buttocks Dave had ever laid eyes upon. Mesmerized, weak in the knees and like drawn by strings, he took a step forward while he raised his hands to her firm, chiseled roundness —

Yes, come and get me, whispered Barbara's thoughts. Come and ream my dripping hole wide. Da-dun-de-dun-de-daa—

She hummed on, feigning unawareness.

Dave's fingers brushed over the onset of her butt. Barbara lurched forward as raw desire and carnal hunger exploded in her crotch. A plate clattered to the floor. Her hands clawed into the far edge of the table. The long, raunchy groan that rose from her throat while she spread her legs was worthy of a congregation of whores.

"Love," he rasped. The fingertips of his right hand traced down her cleft. His other hand pulled the wool up. Barbara gyrated her hips and did her best aiding him to liberate her itching, leaking crotch from her dress. Every touch and scrape over her firm buttocks made her wetter.

"Dave — gods, Dave, mount me!" she panted. "Today's the day! Now! Need you — in me, so very bad!"

His weight on her back disappeared but for a moment, then she felt the silken skin of his glans sliding up and down over her widening gap, slipping in deeper until the red, swollen head of his rod disappeared completely between her tight labia. Dave hesitated, unsure, waiting for his wife to get used to the girth. Her stretched skin dug into the ridge right behind his glans, and things only got thicker from there on down.

Barbara impatiently arched her back and lifted her hips, and to Dave's surprise, she opened slowly and pushed her crotch towards him. Her body swallowed inch by inch of his engorged staff.

"Told — you. Breed — me," she panted, pulling one leg up on the table to open herself even more. Dave slid in and out about the half length of his rod now, and little rivulets of her warm secretions ran down Barbara's other leg. It was good, but it wasn't yet what she wanted.

"Dave — Dave, wait, let me get on my back," she moaned. He held still. She spun over on his pole and grabbed his shoulders while her legs locked behind his back.

"Ride me harder!"

He obeyed and grabbed her thighs. They felt different, stronger and meaty, but his mind was too occupied to notice. In and out he went, and she caught his thrusts with her warm wetness, her trembling body writhing on the table, her cave growing deeper and wider until her labia smacked against the root of his rod.

"I'm all in," he moaned, his mind ablaze with bestial delights.

"Oh yes you are," she shrieked. Her hole clenched down on his root for a handful of breathless, motionless moments before Barbara's hips started bucking.

~

Full, so very full. She stretched around his throbbing dick, her moist gap filled to capacity. Finally, after all the weeks of failed efforts, she matched her husband all the way, from their minds down to their nether regions. His member swelled even more inside her, and all he uttered were grunts. She knew this all too well —

"Dave," she panted, with her eyes rolled so far back they shone almost white, "wait, Dave!"

Barbara pushed him away, gently and slowly. The glowing snake in her womb slid out inch by inch, its bloated head stretching her canal along the way.

"Barb—"

"Hush. Come, lay on your back. Get comfortable. We'll do this together, till the end. I'll show you —"

Barbara straddled her husband and lowered herself on his hot and sweating body, her own skin flushed and coated in a thin layer of perspiration. Her fingers pried her sopping labia apart, and her other hand slid the peach-skinned head over her button and down until it locked into place, spreading the slick rim of her vagina.

"Gods, you're a stallion, love," she croaked as he entered her again. Barbara relished every inch that disappeared into her golden curls.

Leaning forward, working her hips up and down on his hardness, Barbara brought her nipples in reach of his mouth. He pouted and drew the left one between his rough lips. It didn't do much for her, but Dave liked that so much —

Fire filled Barbara's buds and spread out into the flat pads of her breasts. She crossed her eyes and slumped on his heaving chest. Too sensitive, burning, itching, the sensations bursting from her nipples all of a sudden rivaled the delicious tide of wet sliding feelings from her crotch. Barbara moaned in unbearable delight, wrapped her arms around Dave's head and tried to make sure his tongue would never leave the coarse flesh.

"Chew...," she moaned, and his teeth squeezed lightly. Barbara cramped up.

"Gods! Dave! — F—fast, too fast — c—come with m—eeeek! Can't — hold ouuuuhnn —"

She dug her thighs into Dave's flanks and froze, mouth gaping, eyes squeezed shut. He grew one last time, burrowed deep in her warmth, and the hot spurts from his twitching pole mingled with her ample juices. Convulsing time and again, she sagged down on her husband's chest.

~

A chorus of voices woke her. Cool air caressed her burning skin, and the world was inky blackness.

Barbara opened her eyes. It barely made a difference, only turned black into dark blue. She laid naked in a circle of chanting, moaning shadows, of invisible hands stroking her skin, and as she shook them off and jumped to her feet, struggling against air that suddenly had the resistance of thick slime, she lost her footing and drifted higher, spinning helplessly in mid-air, her head filled with the stream of prurient vowels.

She tried to move her arms. Something held them in place. It pressed into her elbows, into her upper arms. Solid and warm was the touch. She writhed to break free —

~

Dave let her out of his embrace as she started to twist and turn. Barbara's eyes snapped open.

"Whoa there, love!" he gasped in surprise. "I'm just holding you!"

Barbara blinked. "Of course you are. It's just —"

She frowned. "Can't quite — like I was — like I passed out for a moment there or something."

Warm wetness seeped from her crotch, and the smooth tip of David's penis slipped out along with it. Another shudder ran over Barbara's skin. Recollection hit her, together with a slightly sore feeling between her legs. The memory of the weird vision drowned in glorious delight. She grabbed her husband's shoulders hard and shook him, laughing.

"We did it! Dave, we finally did it! I took you inside all the way! Oh, just you wait, all the things we're going to try now!"

~

Barbara wriggled into her crumpled gown. Her dreamy smile turned into a frown, and her fingers slipped into the uncomfortable rim of her dress' cleavage and traced the edge of her breasts. That's not right, she thought.

"Dave? What you think of that?"

She turned and dragged down the hem of her dress. It scraped over her nipples and left a faint sting that spread out into numb heat, but Barbara disregarded the rousing sensation.

Dave furrowed his brow at the sight of her bared chest. "Oh dear, can't you wait until the evening?" He started to smile. "All right, but give me a couple of moments, wife!"

She slapped him playfully. "No, you dolt! My breasts have swollen up!"

"Eaten too much blowfish recently?" he joked.

"No, just — just two of these new golden ones while you were away."

"Just two? Well, if that's what two of them do, then it's a good thing I've got them by the bucketful, down at the mole," winked Dave.

Barbara giggled and turned in front of him, nibbling on her forefinger in fake coyness.

"As long as you bring them, I'll keep on eating them."

~

Chapter 4: Plans For The Future

~

A week later.

Dave leaned back into his wooden chair and stared at his wife.

"Four of them! You just wolfed down four of those huge golden ones," he insisted.

"Well, I promised, and I was soo famished after my morning swim! And they were delicious, and I've not gained an inch to my waist. They're almost jumping your nets, you said so yourself, so what are you complaining about?" she shrugged.

"Not complaining, I'm just —," he started.

"Besides, my mind's on other things now. Come here now husband," she moaned and embraced him. "Time for afters."

He struggled away, or at least feigned trying to.

"Barbara, I really need to work on the boat today. The trader's about to come by, too. Can't you wait until the night?"

"Nnn—ope. Mmmh. Gonna put me on the table now," she moaned between kisses, clambering to her feet. Her buttocks bumped into the rough wood, and she hauled her ass on the protesting tabletop and spread her thighs wide. Glistening wetness greeted him, and he gave in. His body had already decided what was more important to him right now.

"Come on in, the water's fine," rasped Barbara and stretched her arms to David.

~

"Barbara ... Barbara ... oooh —"

"Ooooh! Oh—ooohh—ooh!" she panted.

"Barbammmhh!" Her lips muffled his cry. Her thighs wrapped around his hips and held him in place, feeling the long spurts deep inside her. Spent, he sagged down on her, and Barbara groaned in delight as his glowing weight pinned her to the table.

~

"Oh my — that was — awesome! I love — your rod — so much," panted Barbara as she wriggled out from under her husband. He rolled on his back.

"I love — all of you — so much," Dave replied. "I — B—aaaah! What're — y'doing —"

"Mmmgh," was her muffled reply.

Smack.

"You taste a bit like the sea, all salty," she giggled. "I like it. I'm going to try some new — that's something I caught Dilly the milkmaid whispering about — gmmm—"

Her lips pouted and pecked a kiss against Dave's cock. He sucked in the air in surprise, and then again as Barbara's mouth moved to the tip and drew in the fat, glistening head. Her cheeks bulged.

He's really big, she grinned widely.

"Not the teeth!" gasped Dave.

Shplop.

"Of course not! Dave! What d'you think of me? Though you are good enough to eat."

Shlurp.

Up and down bobbed her head. Dave dug his fingernails into the rim of the table.

"Oh Barb ... oh Barb ...," he stammered. His meat grew thicker quickly.

Barbara rubbed her tongue along the underside of the reddened glans. Drops of his pre-cum mingled with her saliva. Her mouth filled with the salty tang.

Tastes so good. She swallowed, and the motion brought the swollen head deeper into her mouth. She gagged for a moment, then more of the salty delicacy spewed forth, and Barbara took another gulp.

"Hhaaah," groaned Dave. His massive cock slid in another inch, and something soft yet tight dug into the rim just behind its head as he entered her throat. He was trapped in the most delightful way he could imagine. Barbara kept on sucking and swallowing.




Siren Song Ch. 01



"Barb — careful — y'need — air!" he stammered and took her head in his hands, gently pushing her away. "Just licking the tip is mighty fine enough, dear."

"Mm—mmmh," she protested, dug her fingers into his hips and rammed the swollen, hard rod all the way down her throat. Dave involuntarily arched upward, and her lips reached the root of his cock. She sucked, greedier than before.

"Gooaaahhhdds," he moaned, and her neck throbbed and milked around the length of his manhood as he swelled the last few fractions of an inch that he could. And still she kept on swallowing, trying to suck him in deeper. The skin around his root was drawn tight. Heat wormed up from his balls through his crotch. It burst forward, pulsed through the length and squirted out, almost straight down into her belly. Her hands grabbed his nuts and kneaded them, squeezing every last drop from them that wasn't yet being drawn out by her forceful sucking.

~

"Barbara! Gods, Barb!" The last couple of inches of his deflating rod slipped from her lips. She raised her eyes.

"Mmmh," she purred and licked her lips. "That was delicious."

"You — you — how?!" he gesticulated in confusion. "Barbara, did you even breathe? I feared you'd choke to death!"

She grinned and played with the soft flesh before her face.

"Could've gone on quite a bit longer, darling," she whispered. "I'm not even out of breath. So, you're going to repay my favor?"

~

"Out and about!"

The trader's cheerful voice easily drowned out the clatter of his wagon. He brought his horse to a standstill in front of the humble hut and climbed from the box.

"Dave! Barb! Where are you? Where's my favorite couple?"

~

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit! I told you! Not during the daytime!"

Dave grabbed for his clothes. Barbara struggled to throw her skirt over her sweat-covered nakedness. She frantically straightened the wrinkles and combed through her disheveled hair.

"I didn't think he'd show up so soon," she whispered. "It's alright, you're looking fine. Go out and greet him, I'll be right after you with the fishes."

Dave was halfway to the door when he stopped, turned and waved at her neck.

"Your pendant!" he hissed. "Take it off! Hide it! Y'know us peasants aren't allowed such jewelry! Barry sees it, we're in trouble! Sure he's a nice guy but he just can't keep his mouth shut!"

~

The trader glanced at David's catch and shook his head.

"Sorry, Dave, I'm not paying for that. They'd nail me to the nearest wall, and rightly so. You stored them until I got around, didn't you? Doesn't make them good. Best I can do is to take the one basket with the fresh ones."

Dave raised his hands in despair.

"Barry, d'you think I'm daft? I know it's not the best I can offer, but what am I to do? I can't catch enough just by sailing out the day before you come by, and I can't keep them in the net in the water either, them dumb beasts just start devourin' each other, and you're not paying either if they got bleedin' bite marks. Can't kipper them around here."

The trader threw the blanket back over the buckets. Flies buzzed away angrily. He scratched his head and shook it.

"Even if all were fresh, my journey lasts almost a week before I reach a place where I can try to sell fishes with a profit. By then, they're not food, but poison. It's not working out for me, Dave. Sorry. The town's market is about the only place you can go, and I know you can't go there."

Barry leaned in and put his arm around Dave's shoulder.

"Listen, I know you're a good lad and Menena's just been maligning you in the village. And the last catch you brought, Dave — if only they were fresh. So hear me out. I can get a word in for you, at the town up north. Might be able to get you a merchant's pass. You'll need to sail along the coast for three days, but you'll be able to sell your catch reasonably fresh. I've got me an office there. Troublesome waters out there, though. Do you dare?"

~

"So, do I dare?"

Dave turned to his wife. He leaned against the tallest post of his boat's small pier and watched the sunset.

"I don't want to leave you here, all alone. Two days to the town, and two days back, if the winds are kind. Three, maybe four, if not. Barbara, that's a whole week."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled closer.

"Yes, Dave. We need the money and the goods. I don't like it either, but there's not much choice besides moving away, and I don't want to live in a filthy, smelly, noisy, crowded city. I want to be here, alone with you, in peace. If they pay as much as Barry said, you'd only have to do this once a month."

She pulled at the thin chain around her neck and dangled the pendant before her eyes.

"Maybe we should try and sell it. It must be worth a fortune."

Dave shook his head, laid his hand on it and gently tugged it back into the hem of Barbara's skirt.

"Don't even think about that. It's risky enough, you parading it out in the open. Keeping it in the hut is bad enough. Gems are for noble folk, y'know. If the wrong people ever found out, they'd just take it from us and throw us behind bars — or worse. We should bury it well away from our home, just to be safe." He watched her face and sighed. "All right, so I won't bury it. I know you love it so much, but promise me you'll keep it well hidden while I'm gone."

~

Chapter 5: Market Tales

~

The sun rose over the horizon. Its warm rays pierced the many holes in the parchment over the tiny bedroom window and tickled the young woman awake. As Barbara turned over, her arm slipped across the empty space where her husband used to be. She sighed.

"Two more days. At least the weather's holding out."

Her fingers combed through her long rumpled hair. This day's duties were well planned in advance. She hated them nonetheless. Market day.

~

Barbara put on her best clothes and ran her fingers down her slender hips to smoothen out her skirt. Judging from the pinching the cloth gave her, she definitely had put on some girth around her hips. With a sigh, she bent down, grabbed the handles of her cart and leaned in.

Behind her, the two tall wheels creaked in a grating rhythm as she pulled the cart along the deserted dirt path to the village. When she left, the morning sun still sparkled in the dewdrops on the grass, but by the time she saw the small spire rise over the wheat-covered last hilltop, the midday heat had her drenched with sweat.

~

"Still with your little cart, I see," greeted the bulky, middle-aged man. Barbara raised her head in surprise, but kept on fanning with her straw hat to both dry the salty droplets on her skin and to keep the flies from the fishes on display. The hubbub from the market barely reached into the little alcove on the side street.

"Didn't hear you coming, Robert Blacksmith," she smiled. "How come a man built like his anvil can be so stealthy?"

"It's the missus, keeps me on my tiptoes," he replied and drew his hat. "I'll have two of them snappers, thank you."

Barbara sighed. "You'll get three for two. It's not like I'm going to sell out today." She looked around. Her assigned place was at the worst possible corner. As to why, Barbara knew all too well.

"How's David? You two doing alright?" the blacksmith asked.

"Could be worse," she answered. "Could be much better, though. We're selling some of our catch to the traveling traders these days, but they don't pay well. Can't blame them. By the time our fish arrive in the big city, they're almost overdue. Wouldn't see me buying them then, that's all I'm saying. Now here, if I could get a stall closer to the market, I might — well, fat chance of that."

"Menena?"

"You need to ask? Of course it's Menena's doing." Barbara cast an angry glance at the big house across the market. "Why can't she just let it go? She's turned me into a leper, Rob. Can barely sell a handful of fishes on a market day. Nobody dares to be seen here. Present company excluded. Sorry, Robert. It's just grating my nerves, is all."

She pinched the root of her nose and exhaled.

Robert scratched his stubbly beard. "You don't know half of it. She sees someone at your stall, she makes them pay their loans on time."

"Really? No wonder I'm stuck with all my display. Still, you came."

"Only smith in town, dear. She doesn't quite dare."

Barbara leaned in. "So why do you people keep on appointing her the mayor year after year? She's bossy, she's mean, she's crafty —"

The blacksmith chuckled humorlessly. "Because she's bossy, mean and crafty — Barb, dear, she's the right tool for that job. You can't deny she's been good for the town."

Barbara's shoulders sagged. "But she's bad for me," she grumbled.

She raised her head. "Still, she doesn't dare messing with you? Oh Robert, then can't you get in a word for me with her? It's been going on for a year now, that's just childish to hold a grudge for so long."

"Whoa there, love! I'm not mad enough to step between the two of you, Barbara. The missus will have my head on the anvil if she ever finds out! Besides, wouldn't call Menena's anger a childish grudge, Barb. You know it's much more to her."

"But it wasn't my fault! Should I have left him to drown?"

~

The winter storm came in gusts from ever-changing directions. Scattered snowflakes marked the whirls. Barbara leaned against one of the thick poles of the village pier, pinched her eyes to make out the cockleshells dancing on the waves and drew her thick clothes tighter.

Menena had stepped up to her side. Behind them, several other of the town's women waited and worried. The trader woman kept her eyes fixed on one boat.

"David," she whispered and brushed a few of her raven strands back under her hood's fur trimming. "Oh please ..."

"They'll be all right, Miss," the young maid tried to calm her worried mistress. "It's just a few hundred yards, they're almost back in the harbor —"

"David! David!" Menena's shrieks pierced the howling wind. Barbara spun around. The boat was empty now. A gush of water shot up by its side, only to be scattered by another squall. The sail tilted, then the boat turned over.

Barbara didn't think at all. Her legs stomped over the pier. Her eyes were fixed on the dark and glistening hull. She leapt and hit the ocean with her arms stretched out ahead.

Cold. Colder than ever before. The water sucked all warmth from her body. She kept on stroking, her eyes still fixed on the dark shadow of the boat. Waves buried her under their icy weight, but she kept on, it was even easier under the surface. Her clothes, soaked full of water now, heavy, slowing her, dragging her down. A brush of her hands, and her slender body slid out of the wool's deadly grip like a snake shedding her skin. Speed. More speed.

One, two. One, two. Coming up for air, freezing cold air like steel being rammed down her throat. Back under the waves. The boat, a dozen yards ahead, maybe less. A shadow beneath, so small, slowly sinking into the inky void. Her muscles, numb and cold, but still going. Reaching out. Soaked cloth between her fingers. Pulling.

Air, fresh air, and that heavy, heavy, heavy weight in her grip. The beach, getting closer. Closer. Blackness, closing in from the corners of her eyes —

~

Barbara woke, shivering, in the softest bed she'd ever felt. She tried to turn, but she couldn't muster the strength.

"Easy now. All is well," said a shadow sitting by her side.

"Mistress Menena! I'm — where —"

The raven ran her fingers over Barbara's cheek. Her voice was soft, and an undertone of tears swung in it.

"My bed. You had us scared, child. For a day or two, we feared you'd pay too much of a price. Oh Barbara, I owe you so much —"

She turned and looked over her shoulder. "And here's a young man who wants to thank you, too."

Barbara looked up, and the maid's eyes met David's for the first time —

~

"Robert, you know I didn't steal him from her! You talked to him!"

The blacksmith shrugged. "Doesn't matter that everybody knows he left Menena. Thing is, he left her and went straight to you. Now if I were to leave the missus for another pretty bird — godsforbid — I'd keep on looking over my shoulder because one o' them days she be standing there with the sledgehammer to crush in both our unfaithful skulls!"

"Thanks, Robert. Didn't need that picture in my mind." Barbara shivered at the thought of hulking Bertha Blacksmith with a blood-spattered hammer in her hands.

~

Eight coppers.

The coins slipped through her fingers and disappeared without as much as a jingle into the velvety blackness. Barbara sighed and tied shut her tiny pouch. The three snappers for Robert were the only sale she'd made all day. High time to pack up, else nightfall would catch up with her out on the road.

That's nothing. That's even less than nothing. It'll barely pay for next week's bread.

She glanced at her display and took stock of the half-dozen of unsold fish, smiling wearily.

The fish — well, can't let them go to waste, with David gone. Her stomach growled already.

At least it'll be a dinner to remember.

She grabbed the cart's handles and started the hour-long journey back.

~

Chapter 6: When the Husband's away, the Wife's going to — dilate?

~

I miss him like crazy, Barbara pondered, turning over and over in her lonely bed. Oh David, the things we could do right now.

Her fingers wandered down over her body. She cast the sheets aside and laid naked in the pale light as the moon rose over the sea. Her hands followed her slender sides and traced the lines of her ribcage. Lifting her palms off her skin as she neared her chest, Barbara let only her fingertips graze her nipples. The faint touch made a tingling echo, spreading from her chest all through her body until it reached the top of her head and made her hair stand on end.

"Hhhhahhh —," she inhaled. Left side first, her areolae contracted. Barbara felt the flesh under the slight bumps as it turned hard and made the skin wrinkle. The sensation spread out, and it felt like weight. It also felt like heat, a wandering wave of heat with a shiver and goosebumps in its wake.

Her index fingers tapped on her nipples again, and once again, the rousing sensation spread like ripples in a pond.

Tap.

Tap.

Barbara's rhythm accelerated. The heat of each wavefront no longer had time to fade. It collected on her skin. Thin droplets of sweat appeared. Her areolae were all crinkled up now.

Taptap.

"Mmmnnnhh —"

Taptaptap.

"Mhhhh. Mhhhhh."

She bit her lower lip.

Yes, yes! More! Need ... stronger!

She grabbed her flat chests and squeezed her fingers into the thin layer of womanliness over her ribcage. Angling her hands, she pinched her itching, hard nipples between thumbs and forefinger.

"Guuuhhh!" groaned Barbara. She twisted her hips, she rubbed her one leg against the other, holding them closed tightly, trapping her aroused crotch between them. The faint rubbing noises of dry skin on dry skin turned into moist smacking. Wetness coated her thighs, and the heat in her crotch grew stronger.

Not just her nipples itched and throbbed from the inside now; the strange and delicious sensations spread out over her body. Her eyes bugged as she recognized the building arousal.

Last night, were her scattered thoughts. In me. Oh David, David, so deep, in me, to the hilt. You brought me those feelings. So good. Just ... some more ... then ... then ...

She almost felt Dave's hands again, his arms around her narrow waist, and he inside her, embedded so deep, oh so very, deliciously deep, in her quivering cave, for those endless moments. Her left hand moved down and cupped her crotch. The touch of her palm on her swollen bud drove her wild. Barbara pushed down harder, rubbing the ball of her thumb all over her vulva. The frantic sliding of skin on skin coated her matted blond hair with the froth of ecstasy.

More! she moaned inwardly. So close ... can't stop ... bliss ... coming —

Her legs trembled in spasms, her whole body arched upwards. Thin jets of liquid sprayed from her crotch and splattered against the foot board of the bed. Her chest heaved, her insides contracted, time and again, squeezing out more of the silver arcs.

Barbara sagged down. Her hands cupped her reddened, wide open labia. Her glazed fingers spread the cooling liquid across her gaping hole, soothing the burning sensations of her raw-rubbed skin. Dragging a trail of moisture along, she let her left hand wander higher until it reached the onset of her breasts. Her skin glowed with inner heat. She sighed delightedly.

A sound like a quiet inhale, somewhere in the distance.

What the —

She jerked and opened her eyes. Blueish moonlight revealed her glistening body, but almost nothing of the bedroom. Barbara strained her ears to no avail. The only thing she could make out was the wind rustling dry leaves in the bushes.

Stop that, she chided herself. Who'd come out here that late at night anyway?

As the rustle subsided, the weird noise came back. Perched at the edge of perception was some strange ringing sound. And the odd feeling of her head caught in a vise, of a numb pressure on her ears.

Is that what the other girls meant when they whispered they heard the bells ringing after a good romp? Barbara frowned, and tensing her forehead brought the onset of a headache. Ugg. That's not worth bragging about, it's rubbish.

She swung her legs out of the bed and struggled upright, clutching her temples. The ringing in her ears grew stronger. Barbara stumbled to the door. She clung to the doorpost and inhaled the cool night air.

It's better with David around. It was good, though ... didn't know my fingers could do me like that, but I really need him to hold me in the afterglow. Feeling ... so weak ...

She moistened her lips.

No wonder. I'm parched. A little sip might be a good idea.

Barbara turned around and took the earthen jug from the shelf. The gulp ended up a bit bigger than she had planned. Coughing, she corked the liquor and stowed it away. Warmth spread through her innards. She shuddered in delight.

Mmmh. Much better. Much — gaah!

Her eyes grew big, and her hands clutched her crotch. Muscles deep in her womb contracted and pulsated. She panted, slack-jawed with her tongue hanging halfway out.

Can't be — can't — c—

David was inside her again, she milked him again, drawing every last drop from that huge rod again.

"Mnnnhhhh!"

Sagging against the wall, her face contorted to a delirious grin, she came again, jerking and twisting. Barbara's hands overflowed with another helping of her ample juices. Wisps of fog rose from the warm puddle on the floor between her legs.

Where did that just come from —?

She struggled upright once more. The itching all through her body receded, but it did not go away completely. In fact, it rapidly grew stronger again. The calm before the storm upon her was going away fast.

No, no, please, I can't take any more of this, so weak, why —

Oh the gods — here it comes agaiahhh—

Barbara's breath raced. Her knees trembled and lost their strength. She dropped, swaying, as the pressure inside her rose higher. This wasn't like the first times, it was like diving down, deeper and deeper, feeling the crushing weight of water piling up above her — only it was all wrong, it was upside-down, inside-out. The weight was in her and it wanted out, it needed out. The pliable but unyielding weight of the endless ocean amassed in her and surged in waves against her skin, filling her up.




Siren Song Ch. 02



Siren Song, Part 2 — Growing Out

Four parts, an epilogue and a bonus story. At least that's the plan. No promises, though.

Still no need to go looking for the mermaid in this part either.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

First Draft started 2008-06-17, this one 2012-05-26

Spellchecked: by computer.

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to Merkava IV and CoffeePilot for their time and patience.

~

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

Part 2: Growing Out

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"Every time I dream it's just a little bit stronger than real life" — Meat Loaf, Good Girls go to Heaven

~

Once upon a time ...

The year is 1185, the world is Altaerna, and the place is somewhere in the temperate climate where people are mostly pale and mostly stubborn.

A winter ago, a lithe and lissom young woman saved a handsome young fisherman from drowning. The fisherman's would-be fiance, headstrong cold-hearted not-so-young Menena, the town's mayor and wealthy shop owner, didn't take it lightly when her trusted maid Barbara and her well-equipped secret boy toy David fell for each other hard and fast despite being unable to join in carnal pleasures (on account of Barbara's nethers being a thimble and David being ... rather more than that).

Consumed by jealousy, Menena saw to it that David was banned from the town, with Menena maligning him whenever she could. Barbara was given the boot but still found a little lenience in Menena's eyes for the years of service, so the lithe blonde was allowed to spend market days in the side streets where she's now trying to sell for a living the fishes that David catches with his tiny boat and his worn nets. The outcast couple of twenty-somethings got secretly married and made it through their first year, living a life of privation in a tiny hut atop the cliffs, hours from the town.

Part 1:

Spring has returned. Going for a swim while waiting for her husband's return, Barbara hits upon a drifting net chock-full of fish while her other half David makes but a single lucky catch out at sea. Reunited, the young couple retreats into their favorite hideaway to have another go at their most pressing problem, their inability to consume their marriage properly. Still unable to succeed, they resort to each other's dexterity like the many times before.

As Barbara prepares lunch gutting the fish David brought, she discovers a valuable pendant in its belly. Putting it on, she — is woken by her husband, hours later. Not only has she developed quite the appetite for the unfamiliar fishes that the new net seems to attract, she also suddenly succeeds in devouring herculean meat (wink, wink). When David sets out to a bigger and more distant town in an effort to sell more of his catches, Barbara ends up doing a little self-exploration on a moonlit night. She also ends up with quite some more Barbara before the night is through. After a day spent in fear and despair, and lucky for her self-conscious mind, a) most of it has disappeared again by the time Dave returns, and b) David doesn't mind the surplus left on her at all.

As the next market day comes around, Barbara squeezes into her now ill-fitting old clothes and is about to go on a quest for answers about what has befallen her, and her first stop will be the town's healer and midwife. Alas, the market isn't over yet ...

~

Chapter 7: No Second Opinion

~

"Dun—de—dun—dun, dun—dun—de—da," Barbara hummed quietly. Her toned legs laid crossed on one of the handles of her cart, and she swayed her upper foot to the beat in her head. So there's something to be said for a bit more padding in the rear, Barbara admitted to herself as she wiggled her firm buttocks on her now much more comfortable seat. Her eyes followed the lazy drunken dance of a butterfly while she wound a strand of her long golden hair around her slender forefinger. With the cool wall against her back and the warm rays on her body, the hour where the sun made it down into the narrow side street was her favorite time. She tugged absentmindedly on a crease of strain in her worn gown's fabric as she counted the display of her fishes for the umpteenth time. No sale, no change. The laid-out catch was fresh and their sizes excellent, but she knew she couldn't hope for more than a sale or two, and those only on the sly and out of pity. Not after she'd learned from the blacksmith about how Menena, her former mistress, most successful mayor and shopkeeper and the biggest moneylender of the whole area, leaned on those seen at her tiny cart.

"Wench!" bellowed a deep voice.

She jerked around and gasped for air. The face of the brick wall sized town guard was hidden in the shadows of his hat's brim. He stood so close as to almost fall over her cart. Barbara's hands started to tremble. This is it. They'll run me out of town. Oh the gods, I never did nothing wrong, how —

"— Much is the fish?" reached her disbelieving ears.

"Beg y'pardon?" she managed, struggling upright only to bow respectfully.

He took off his hat and twisted in his big, rough hands. "Sorry t'startle ya, didn't mean to. How much is the fish?"

"Two coppers apiece," Barbara replied. "Hah! Heh!" A liberating giggle, mixed with relieved panting, forced its way up her constricted throat. The jiggling and trembling that spread all over her chest's new volume in her laughter's wake still felt strange to her, and she twisted her body halfway to the side and pressed her flat hand on the window of her neckline. The guard raised a warning finger and tilted his head.

"Don't be doing that, Miss, lest oy'll hafft' arrest ya fer obstruction of the watch's view!" His posture and smile made it blatantly obvious that he was joking though.

After he left with one of the bigger catches, Barbara opened her hand. Eight copper pieces shone dully on her palm.

"Fair enough for the fright," she smiled, about to sit down and lean back again. "Dun—dun—da—de—"

"Miss?"

She recognized the voice before she even turned around. "Andrew! Little Andrew from Redwood farm, right?" Barbara raised her head and had to admit, there was nothing little about the freckled, red-headed guy any more. "My, you've grown! It's been what, four years? How did you —"

The strapping young man shrugged. "First day in town for months. Saw the guard, was just curious. You selling?" he added, pointing at the cart.

"Uh, yes, of course," Barbara stuttered. "Sorry, it's just — oh come on!" Another guy walked past the side street, only to hesitate and return moments later. Barbara began to smile. Robert Blacksmith, I really owe you. Seems you've got in a good word for me after all.

~

The bell announced the end of the market. Barbara took stock. Two thirds of her display was gone, and her pouch had gained a healthy amount of much-needed volume. She knocked on the wooden door of the house behind her.

"What?" barked an unfriendly voice.

"Uh — Misses Weaver, could you keep an eye on my cart, I need to — to pay someone a visit. Err, to make a delivery. I'll be back soon—," begged Barbara, only to add under her breath, "—ish."

Old Miss Weaver opened the door a couple of inches and took a short peek outside, narrowing her aged eyes until the blurred shapes took on recognizable forms.

"Ah, it's you. Yes, yes. Not a problem. That'll be one copper extra." The wrinkly old woman cocked her head, then she raised her eyebrows and nodded towards the cart. "Very wise, bringing only half your usual catch. What's the point in dragging it here and back again, eh?"

"Uh, yes. Yes, right." Dammit. Almost opened my mouth too wide there, Barbara realized. Drop the wrong hint, she's going to demand a share of my sales.

~

Barbara sat patiently in the gloom of the antechamber. Leta Mawson was busy, always busy; even at the ripe old age of seventy, her duties left little time for idle chat. The grandmotherly, rotund woman was midwife to most of the villagers and healer to them all.

"Barbara? Is that you? Haven't seen you in a while, and — whoa Nelly, little fish bone helped herself to a comfy pair of milkers!"

She recognized the squeaky voice and wished she didn't. Barbara smiled nevertheless as she raised her head and greeted.

"Sandy! What are you doing here?"

The moon-faced, freckled, stocky girl of twenty years twisted her body. Her copper curls were tied back to a ponytail and swung wildly as she turned on the spot and sent her skirt flying. When she stopped her spinning, her bulging chest and fertile hips kept the apron busy for quite a while longer. She raised her lower arms in a half-circle and slanted her hips.

"Tah—da! I'm Leta's new appurentice! She's teachin' me everythin' an' stuff! And I'll become the new healer! Oh, I knew you'd show up sooner or later, what with your little hole being ripped wide open by that brute's horse cock! That's gotta hurt for weeks. Eh, oy've got an ointment for that. Leta always says, if'n ya use it luiberalley, ya could breed a mouse with'n a bull."

Barbara blushed from her chest up to the roots of her hair. "Guh — what?" she managed, casting nervous looks around.

Sandy waved her hand dismissively. "Naah, no need t' be coy about it aroun' here, ain't nothin' us healers haven't seen before, is what Leta's been sayin' all the time."

Morbid curiosity rose its head in the back of Barbara's brain, and against her better judgement, she heard herself ask, "What have you seen before?"

Sandy at least had the decency to lean in and whisper.

"Weeeeell, ya see, out on the farms, sumtimes a widow gets a little lonely, an' them huge beasties start t'look so vuirile an' inviting —"

"Sandy," Barbara interrupted with her most calming, sugar-coated voice, "I don't want to hear anything about anyone. I'd just like to have a little talk with Leta, alone, if you'd be so kind. And there's nothing wrong with my little hole, thank you very much."

The apprentice nurse wouldn't get subtlety if Berta Blacksmith pounded it into her head with a sledgehammer. She plopped herself down on the bench by Barbara's side.

"Ah, Leta's busy. Lucky you, I've got nothing to do but t' keep ya company. So, what's with you and Big Dong Dave?"

"Big Dong Dave? That's my husband you're talking about!"

Sandy giggled. "No way! You married the Cock? After what he did to you?"

"What he — " Barbara's eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched into fists. "What's that supposed to mean?! Sandy. I am going to say this just once. David is the perfect husband, and before, he was the perfect sweetheart, and that is that! Think for a moment before you open your lips again."

— Or I'm going to lodge my fist so deep into your mouth, it's going to be my fingers doing the thinking for you, she finished mutely, and regretted the violent surge the very next moment. Silence spread in the antechamber. Barbara mistook it for the kind born of sulkiness.

"I'm sorry, Sandy. I didn't mean to — "

Sandy raised a finger and stopped her. "Still thinking," she added after a few more seconds.

Just as Barbara inhaled for a reply, Sandy turned to her and put her hands on her hips.

"That's so odd, Dave being so kind to you! Y'know, Menena said she'd thrown him out because he always wanted to get inside her, but he's too thick and long for ordinary women, that brute!"

"Menena said?!" Oh that nasty crone! That nasty, lying, mean crone! First she —

"So, is he really — y'know, big? How do you manage? Do you like it, or is it a chore? Say, are you, like, cow-sized wide?"

Sandy's impeccable timing crushed Barbara's rising anger and buried it under a load of rocks made from sheer embarrassment and bewilderment.

"No!" escaped Barbara's lips. "I — I mean, no, I'm not cow-sized!"

"An' why not? Y'know, you're supposed to stretch iff'n you do it long and hard enough. It's not all that bad, makes the birthin' a whole lot easier, an' us healers like that!"

"Gods, Sandy! Have you no slice of modesty in you?" stammered Barbara.

"Nah, when pickin' day came about an' all us of age got our apprentice...boat? Ship! Appurenticeship! An' I was the last one standin' there, then Leta looked everywhere about me an' said I'm so hollow, there's lots of room for all her knowledge in me! But she didn't get to tellin' me about no modasty yet. Sorry."

"Grumble."

"Whut?"

"I said Leta always had a fine eye for people," Barbara sighed.

~

"Next—!" barked Leta Mawson's commanding rough voice. Barbara involuntarily jumped to her feet. Her hand trembled a little as she brushed aside the blanket that separated the waiting room from the main one.

"So the lost orphan girl finally finds her way to me," Leta smiled softly as she turned away from the tall shelves that lined most of the walls. "What's the matter, my dear? You of all people wouldn't show if it wasn't something serious."

Barbara blushed profoundly and bit her lips.

"This — I'm — things keep happening!" She hesitated for a moment, then she slapped her hands before her face and started sobbing. "I — how — it's so hard to tell! Please, don't laugh at me!"

The midwife put her arm around Barbara's heaving shoulders.

"Shhhh, poor girl. Leta's here. Leta understands everything."

~

"You can put your clothes back on, Barbara. You should, in fact. Oh dear, oh dear. I'm seventy-one now, and I should be beyond these things, but you, you almost managed to turn this stupid old hag green with envy." Leta shook her head and smiled.

"Honest to the gods, you had me worrying about you for some time, child. Nice lass you are now, but scrawny like you were when I last saw you, you wouldn't have lasted a dry stretch. Much better to see you with some meat on your bones, and all in the best places." The old woman winked, then she leaned in. "Word to the wise, dear: sit down with needle and thread, and make yer garb a bit more," she gesticulated awkwardly with cupped hands and her palms facing the ceiling, making little juggling motions, "— err, comfortable, lest ya pop a seam at an inappropriayte time. Seems it was sown when someone didn't ever expect to learn the meaning of handfuls. And your ripe apples are quite the pair of handfuls, darling."

Barbara blushed and closed the last few hooks and loops on her gown, working her way up from her narrow waist. The first hand's width was easy, but then —

"Gnnngh!"

Scrrrish.

Leta raised her eyebrows and lowered her head in the age-old gesture of told you. Barbara sighed. She pocketed the torn loop and opted for provisionally tying up the gap across her cleavage with a zig-zagging cord. The spread was almost three inches at the widest place. Only at her collarbones did the cloth shut again the way it was supposed to. Beneath them, right at nipples' height, any pair of prying eyes had the nicest window into the collision zone of her breasts.

"I will widen the seams, soon as I get home!" Barbara nodded, then she canted her head and drew up her shoulders questioningly. "So — so it's good? I mean, my — my breasts, becoming so full and heavy, and all that milk — I'm twenty, isn't that supposed to happen way earlier? Look at Sandy, she's been, like —" Barbara's hands painted something better than twice her own curviness in the air, "— like that years before me. And these days where I'm not myself and I wail about nothing, only to snarl at Dave the very next moment —"

Leta brushed away Barbara's fearful question with a wave of her hand.

"Full and heavy? With you being Menena's former maid, I'd say you know better than to call yourself full and heavy straight-faced! So you came into bloom a bit later, that's bound to happen to someone. The later it comes, the longer it lasts, eh? No, dear, nothing's wrong with you at all. Nice and firm in front and rear, don't you dare to speak ill of your own body. Oh, and the bloat and the anger, the trial of womenfolk through the ages! Who of us hasn't had these moods, darling? It comes and goes with the moon, girl, and it's never as bad as it seems in our minds. Don't you worry, it's what all of us women feel."

"We do?" Barbara exhaled. "That's a relief."

~

The long late afternoon walk from the village to her isolated hut never seemed as short to Barbara as today. The weight of several boulders had been lifted from her shoulders, and she danced even though the swaying and bobbing it caused in her marvelous handfuls reminded her of bouncing boulders still.

~

Barbara sneaked down the footpath to Dave's little pier. Her naked soles made no sound on the warm sand, and the soft wind moved her dress, but not enough to give her away with a flutter or a rustle. As she stalked her favorite prey, she ate him up with her eyes and congratulated herself to the hunk of a catch she'd made. Every now and then a gust moved his shoulder-long hair far enough out of the way to grant her a peek at his chiseled jaw.

David had shed his tunic and stood with nothing but his loincloth by the thin poles that held up his frail fishnet, sewing up the holes. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the aching shoulder blades, and Barbara stifled a hungry growl. The well-defined, sweaty muscles on his bronzed triangular back glistened in the setting sun. Dave raised his heels, reaching for a torn thread higher up. The sinews on the back of his knees framed the onset of his contracting calves.

Need him, now! Barbara's fingers bent greedily. She leaned forward and pounced. His body stiffened under her impact as she wrapped her arms around his chest and felt up his hard midriff.

"Good news!" laughed Barbara, clinging to her startled husband from behind. Her fingers moved independently and homed in on his loincloth, searching for the tying knot. "Guess what? It's what happens to all girls when they become real women!"

"What?" frowned Dave. Reluctantly, she let go of him and took a step backwards. He turned to face her, and her gorgeous sight immediately smoothed the wrinkles on his forehead.

Barbara canted her hips and put her arms akimbo, proudly thrusting out her ample chest. Her clothes groaned a warning.

Come and get them, cup and knead them, chirped her thoughts.

"I talked to old Leta Mawson about me growing and the bad moods and stuff, and she said it's something all of us women go through, but we just don't talk about it." She rolled her shoulders and smiled seductively. "So now your bride is finally all the woman you'll ever need."




Siren Song Ch. 02



"You always were all the woman I ever needed. But — are you sure about —"

"That's what Leta said. To the letter, cross my heart. So we finally can stop worrying and enjoy all this." She embraced him and squeezed her soft, bulging bosoms against him, ripping threads and torn seams be damned. Dave's hands hiked up her skirt. Barbara started to grind her naked crotch against his leg, adding her own ample lubrication to the salty sweat on his skin. He grabbed her uncovered buttocks, digging his fingers into her firm flesh.

"Yes, that's what I meant," she gasped.

~

Something in the back of her mind noticed the slow gentle waves rolling over the shore. Driftwood moved back and forth with the body of water as it licked over the sand. In and out, whispered the thought in Barbara's head. In and out with the waves, on and on. Just imagine — Barbara didn't need to imagine anything. The picture was vividly in her mind, burning with anticipation.

"Come, David! Off with the wrapper!" She undid the knot of Dave's loincloth, pulled it off and cast it aside. Barbara raised her arms to aid David as he quickly pulled her dress up and over her head. Her fingers returned to his half-stiff rod and grabbed it. Dismounting from his thigh, she took a step back and led him along by his cock to the waterline.

"Oh dear, Barbara. In the water? We tried this before." He winced at the memory. "Davey was sore for days."

"Don't you worry," she moaned. "This time, I'm greased for the both of us."

They waded out into the surf until the crests reached high enough to lick against David's navel while keeping his slowly hardening cock submerged during the waves' lowest reach. Turning around to face her husband, Barbara giggled excitedly. She lowered herself backwards into the water and moved her arms and legs slowly as she adjusted her body's floating position.

"Right, David. Grab my legs and steady me. Mmmh. Now pull me closer —"

"Bit difficult, aiming like this," he groaned as his cock only grazed her swollen labia and was deflected by her luscious buttocks. The hemispheres slipped over the veined surface, bending the almost stiff pole downward.

"No, just hold my legs steady, I'll do the rest," Barbara replied. Her left hand's fore and middle finger spread the pads and the wrinkles of her labia while she trapped the rim behind his glans in her right hand and aligned him. Her welcoming cave felt boiling hot against the cool ocean as he slid in by about two inches. David's face screwed up. The skin of Barbara's outer lips clung to the silky and sensitive wrinkles of his rolled-back foreskin, tugging painfully as the two stuck together.

"Nnngh! Told you —," David muttered, getting ready to pull out. Barbara's soles pressed into his waist and locked him in place.

"Not so fast, my bull. Here — said I'm greased — guuunnnngh—" Barbara's deep inner muscles contracted, and some of her pent-up viscid secretions squeezed out around the peach-cone of his head.

"—Hhaaaaah!" she groaned delightedly as moments later he almost fell all the way into her hungry cave. Her ample honey-thick juices remained like a ring around her folds and supplied a steady coating to lube the whole length of David's invading flesh.

Barbara moved her hips, searching for an angle that felt right to her. The gyrations shook through her whole body and made the hemispheres of her breasts quiver, their motions greatly dampened and slowed down by the water all around her. With her body nearly completely underwater, only her face and the upper part of her areolae and the crinkled crowns of her stiff nipples broke the surface.

"And now — just let me float, just take care not to slip out all the way," she sighed, giving herself up to sea's motions.

Dave groaned blissfully, never letting his wife's breathtaking torso out of his sight. She was relaxed to the core. Her limp body floated and undulated with the waves, adrift almost like a soft piece of cloth.

Barb held her legs in a split, angling her knees so he could steady her by her ankles. She was open to him, wider than ever before, and David moved in and out smoothly and easily, with just enough friction to keep him aroused but not enough to take him over the edge yet. Unlike the last time, Barbara's juices now clung to the skin of his cock, providing ample lubrication while not dissolving in the water at all.

As the waters retreated on the rear of each wave, Barbara floated down and away from him. He slid out, only to feel her rise again moments later with the next incoming crest, the currents driving her closer again, impaling her smoothly on his cock until her slick folds engulfed him completely and the collision of her soft, padded vulva with his member's root and the sensitive patch of skin between the engorged staff and his balls marked the apex of the long strokes.

In, out. Barbara's eyes slowly rolled back as she felt her climax building with each stroke. Slowly, slowly now, there's no hurry, she restrained herself, resisting the urge to clamp all her insides down on her husband's trunk with the swollen veins embedded in the silky coat of skin over the unyielding, fully engorged tissue beneath. Just a twitch of her muscles, she knew more wouldn't be necessary to whisk her away into the clutches of a rampant orgasm. And yet —

Open! Need to — keep myself open —, she groaned inwardly. The smooth glans of David's cock rushed in again. Its tip tickled against the deep end of her vagina as she bottomed out, and the rear ridge of the hot cone rubbed straight across the ring of her cervix.

Must — hold — b—back — b — baaggnnghh!

The huge, swollen rod retreated again, sliding out inch by inch, dragging its relief of veiny bumps and ridges across Barbara's sopping flesh.

Can't hold — oh the gods, the next time I'll — I'm — about to —

David's hands pulled on her legs to hold her back, keeping his cock's head just barely inside her. The next wave came along, and Barbara knew she was about to lose the fight. And losing felt so good —

The water began to rise again, lifting her shoulders. Her back arched as it followed the wave's drawn-out curvature. Her breasts dove under ever so slightly, just enough to send a chill into her nipples, then they broke the surface again. Barbara's heightened senses told her of the change in her body's momentum. The wave moved by, taking her against David's unyielding posture. Her vagina widened around the throbbing glans as it moved into her again. Along the way, hot spurts tickled against her inner membranes, and she realized she wasn't the only one losing it. His seed added to the ample lubrication. Barbara's muscles contracted, unable to hold back the solid meat that ran her through but strong enough to create enough gooey friction to set all her nerves ablaze. She stared up to her beloved conqueror, admiring his raptured face.

Oh my love — my — co — co—ooaah—!

The next wave had no chance to separate the T-shape of the couple's frozen bodies as Barbara's legs clutched around her husband's hips, trying to cram him all the way into her milking, sucking depths.

~

Chapter 8: Suspicion

~

Three weeks later, on a sizzling midsummer's night.

~

"Dave," Barbara rasped, writhing lazily on the ground, her legs far apart. Her crotch felt a mile wide, raw and dripping wet with both several loads of his cum and her seemingly endless fluids.

"Can't —," he moaned, fighting for breath, flat out on his back by her side. "Too much. Not — again. Please."

Barbara opened her eyes, but it didn't make much of a difference.

"Dave, it's night. Night! Did we — do it the whole evening?"

"I would think so. I remember we stood in the surf for maybe an hour, then — I never thought I could — and that thing you did with your tongue, heavens, Barbara! What has gotten into you?"

She licked her lips and ran her fingers over his chest and down over his stomach.

"Oh, I know what got into me, several times," she smirked. "Besides, what did you expect, leaving me alone and burning for almost a week? Bedtime now. And maybe one more hug for good night's sake, eh?" Barbara groaned happily. "Now that was the kind of ravishing that the village women only gossip about."

Her fingers traced the curves of her slightly sagging voluptuous chest and neared her hard nipples. She hesitated and only put a fingertip on the swollen protrusion. Even the faint touch made her gasp for air.

"Gods, my nipples, I thought they'd burst. And they're so touchy, all of a sudden. Just look at my chest! You've sucked and licked so much, it's all red and swollen!" She giggled. "I've got glowing boobs!"

She squeezed her handfuls together and peeked down into her newfound cleavage.

"See this? And here I was so scared of finally getting a little bit of meat there! And now I like it so much. You've pounded the love of my tits right into me." Her face brightened. "Need you again," she smiled. "Come and harvest these big juicy apples!"

David shook his head. "Barbara, it's — hhhhh!" Her fingers closed around his flaccid manhood and made little milking motions. He couldn't help it; his body scraped up his last reserves and responded.

"You were saying?"

"Barbara, this is wrong. This feels wrong. It's like something's there inside you, making you do things, making you think things, changing you. Far be it from me to doubt Leta's wisdom, but maybe it's this thing after all." He picked up the thin chain of the pendant that clung to his wife's sweat-covered, glistening skin.

"Oh come on, Dave. It's me. Don't tell me you don't like what you're getting. Isn't that why we got married after all? So we can go ahead and know each other for hours on end?" she smirked, her teeth a thin line of white in the darkness.

Dave shook his head. "Sweetie, listen. The coachman said he'd heard of a traveling witch who set up camp near Roughwater village. How about I take the pendant, pay that old crone a visit and let her take a look at it?"

David gently pulled the chain over Barbara's head, only to feel her fingernails digging into his wrists.

"Don't. Mine," growled his wife's suddenly-not-so-lovely face.

"What?" he gasped, only to find that the feral shadow on her features had disappeared as quickly as it had come. He pinched his eyes hard. Her expression was just as soft and gentle as ever, and David wasn't sure anymore if it hadn't been his worried mind playing tricks on him in the twilight. He almost choked on his words when he uttered, "Barbara, what did you just say?"

"I said, I don't mind. Take it, if it makes you happy," she sighed and drew the thin chain over her head herself. The metal jingled faintly as it curled up on the tabletop. "See? Not wearing it, still me. Haven't changed at all. Haven't grown, not even an inch, for weeks. And don't say I wouldn't have noticed, because my gown agrees."

Her fingers circled her swollen nipples again, and she let out a throaty sigh. "Why are you spoiling the mood? Don't you think I'd notice if I were not myself anymore? Why do you think I embarrassed myself and sneaked to Leta? But if it's you who needs a little reassurance now and it makes you feel better, then go and show it to that old crone."

Her fingertips traced his pectorals. She rolled over and lowered herself on his body, warm skin sticking to warm skin, slowly spreading her legs.

"Tomorrow. And until then —"

~

Moonlight shone in through the open window. Barbara stirred slightly in her sated sleep. Dave rested motionlessly by her side, exhausted and sucked dry.

~

The beach was bathed in pale blue light. Her toes dug into the night-cool sand. She blinked, but the scenery remained out of focus and constantly moving.

"So nice of you to pay us another visit, but it's not yet time, my dear," whispered a woman's soft voice behind her shoulder. Barbara froze. Gentle fingertips traced her bare hips and slid higher, diving into the fold beneath her surprisingly heavy breasts. They followed her voluptuous curves before circling the hard nipples. "Not much longer, though," chuckled the invisibly entity. Her hands couldn't even cup a third of the mammoth fulness of Barbara's melons, and the warm flesh bulged through her wide-spread, slender fingers.

Blurred spots in front of Barbara grew more solid as they closed in. Half floating, half walking, a dozen or more of them slowly approached her, shadows of graceful women with no details or features, their bodies moving like waves, their wide hips rolling. They sang to her, but the young woman couldn't make out words. It was just vowels, soft, soothing and sweet. And then their fingers joined in exploring Barbara's skin, caressing her face, her shoulders, the bulging roundness of her breasts, the sensitive inside of her thighs. She didn't move, needn't move at all, she knew in her heart she was safe in the one place meant for her.

Fingertips touched her neck. The strokes stopped, and then those curious fingers were gone, scattering like a school of fish. Two hands grabbed her upper arms, pinning them to her side.

"What have you done?! Where is your pendant, Barbara?" hissed the woman behind her, her mouth only inches from Barbara's ear.

~

"Come on, where is the pendant?" whispered Dave into her ear.

Barbara jolted in her bed. She sat up straight and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Morning sunlight came in low through the small window. Blinking cleared the fog in front of her eyes and revealed that her husband was already dressed for the long walk to where the witch was supposed to be.

"Y'said I sh'nt wear it. So, bedpost," she mumbled as she ran her fingers through her tangled golden hair.

"Bedpost where?" Dave looked around.

"Over there." Kneading her stiff neck with one hand, she waved with the other vaguely in the direction. "Oh the gods, my pussy's killing me. I won't be able to walk for a week. And these pumpkins will just get in the w—"

Her hand brushed over her chest, and she sighed. "Sorry. Just a dream. Imagine, me with a chest like Bertha Blacksmith. I'd just topple over, I guess. Those girls are enough of a load as they are." She rolled about to get out of bed as something hard touched her thigh.

"No, wait," she stuttered and searched under the covers until she unearthed the silver chain. "It's in here. But — but I know I hung it on the bedpost. I know it! I swear I did!"

David gulped and took it from his wife's grasp. "I — I need to get this thing to that witch. This is getting weirder day by day." He wrapped the silvery metal into a piece of cloth and bent over his backpack to stow it, all the while continuing, "First you're struck down, then you turn ravenous, now you dream of even bigger breasts, and —"

"Bring it back!" she growled behind his back. He gasped for air and jerked around.

"Barb—?"

She stared at him, her face all worried and longing. "I said, bring back your amazing body in one piece, promise? Now that we can get together properly, we've got a whole year's worth of catching up to do!"

He nodded slowly as he backed away. "O—of course."

~

Chapter 9: The Witch

~

David's feet ached, and while he easily held his balance aboard his tiny boat, here between the trees the uneven ground and the roots and stones slowed his walk down to a crawl. It didn't help that nightfall had turned the forest into a black maze. Dave barely managed to hold his bearing, glancing at the stars whenever a rare gap in the roof of branches opened up. He was supposed to be close to the witch's current lair now, but nobody had told him just how huge the woods near Roughwater were.

Almost nobody had been willing to tell him that there even was a witch, much less where she lived. The whole endeavor seemed like an elaborate hare and hound game, the only hints being hushed whispers from the corner of mouths, and Dave couldn't bear to hear the phrase "ain't got this from me, but—" any more. And the deploring glances, gods, how he loathed them by now. "Such a nice lad, why would he need the help of you-know-who —"

~

A red light twinkled in the distance. He caught it from the corner of his eye. Just a single misstep to the left or right, and the faint beacon was gone again. It could be anyone's campfire, but what choice did he have? David homed in on it.

~

The full moon rose and poured a little light into the dark clearing. Dave cautiously approached the small fire. Half a piglet stuck on a twig over the fireplace, headless and sizzling in the heat. Droplets of fat spattered and caught fire, and the meat facing the flames had begun to turn into coal. A knapsack rested against a tree stump, and a crumpled blanket laid nearby.

"H—hello?" he whisper-called, and was half ready to turn and run. Except he wouldn't be caught dead turning his back to the clearing. No, he was determined to stumble backwards, step by tiny step, until no sparkle from the flames was visible through the forest, and only then would he spin on his heels and run like chased by all the hounds of hell.

The chill of the flat side of the knife at his throat went unnoticed over the sting of nails digging into his neck. They weren't fingernails. They were claws, piercing his skin.

"What you want?" growled a female voice, soaked in a guttural foreign accent.

~

Dave raised his hands, slowly, to allay the nervous girl who now stood hunched up in front of him. A blackened knife shone dully in her grip, and from what little of her face he could make out against the backdrop of the fire, she sneered at him. The blade moved from left to right and back again. The hand holding it trembled under barely contained tension, ready to strike any moment.

"Come now, what you want?" she repeated.

"Not here to hurt you," he stammered.

"A man sneaking through the forest at night, and he's not out to hurt me," hissed the tense young woman.

"I'm not," he insisted. "I'm looking for a witch living around these woods, but I can't find her and then I saw your campfire."

She straightened and reluctantly lowered the blade.

"Why would someone look for a witch? Most people are quite eager to avoid them, from what I've heard."

"Listen, woman, no need to stand around here in the darkness, right?" Dave suggested. "I'm going to slowly walk to your fire, and I'll sit down so I can't jump at you. See? I'm no danger to you at all."

She pondered for a few moments.

"Alright, but no sudden moves, stranger, or I'll gut you like that pig," she growled, retreated back towards the campfire and beckoned him to follow.

~

"My goodness," Dave wheezed and stared. "You're — you're all black!"

"More of a brown, actually," she sighed. "And it's a perfectly healthy color for me. You're the one who's sickly pale as sand. So, what about this witch business of yours?"

Dave remained silent and just stared at her. She stood almost to his height. A flaring skirt of durable, red wool hinted at quite chunky hips and luscious buttocks, and her chest was exceptionally developed as well. The taut, velvety skin of her bulbous breasts, squeezed up and out by her bustier, met in a deep crevice. She couldn't be much older than twenty years, though her strange complexion made it hard for him to guess her age. The fire's light illuminated her wrinkle-less features from the side now and reflected in the silvery cord hooks that struggled to hold close her narrow bodice of black and red cloth.

Women can be like this? There's so much of her squeezed into that dress, she has even Menena beat for chest — he thought.




Siren Song Ch. 02



Dave's reluctant hostess followed his wandering gaze and rolled her eyes.

"Seen enough?" she snarled. "Forget it right away. I'm tired. Not going to twirl my hips for you for a handful of coins."

"You're — a dancer?" gasped Dave. "One of those women? No! That's not why I came here! I'm faithful! I'm married!"

"Ooh, I like it how you make a spoken dancer sound like a screamed whore," she snapped back. "Cut it out. You wanted the witch?"

She squatted down on the other side of the campfire and tore a lump of meat from her the half-charred, impaled dinner. Her plump, reddish lips spread into a wide, mirthless grin.

"You found her."

~

She sat cross-legged now, the flames between her unwelcome guest and herself, and kept mustering him from underneath furrowed brows. Her teeth shone brightly against the dark brown of her skin. Dave had heard about the farawayers, stories and tales handed down by the sailors of the tall ships. She didn't seem like a man-eater to him, though, but she wasn't a friendly host either. Mine, something in her eyes said. Ask for a piece of that piglet, and you'll regret it.

David gulped.

"You're pretty — young for a witch," he mumbled, avoiding her piercing stare.

"Well, where d'you think old witches come from?" she snapped back. "What's it now? You came here to chit-chat? It's been a rough day, so either you tell me what you want, or get lost. Where you from, anyway?"

Don't tell her. Never tell a witch where you live.

"Uh, a—round. Around. Just, around these parts."

She waved the bone she had been chewing on in his general direction.

"Trying to be a clever one, you are, eh?" Her mouth formed a derisive smile. "Fear the witch, even if you need her. Suit yourself, fisherman."

He twitched. "How could you —"

She tapped the side of her broad nose. "Hard to get rid of, your work's smell. Name's Yrba, by the way.

"No, don't tell me yours. I'll just call you — dunno — ah, Dave's going to suit you just fine," Yrba laughed hoarsely.

~

David fumbled in his knapsack and pulled out the pendant, letting it dangle from its delicate chain.

"This here. That's why I came. I think it has powers. My wife — she's been wearing it, and she has, uh, changed since."

Yrba shrugged and kept gnawing on the bone.

"Most women change once they get their hands on jewelry," she muttered with her mouth full. "Hold it higher."

David raised his arm. The light sparkled on the silver and the blue crystals.

"Ooh, pretty!" whistled the witch and tossed the bare bone back over her shoulder. She pushed her skirt up and wiped her hand on her naked thigh before she reached for the palm-sized disk.

The next moment, she cursed out loud, her voice barely intelligible on account of the five fingers she crammed into her mouth. David jerked back. Yrba sucked on her aching fingertips, with her plump lips almost wrapped over her knuckles.

"Gwammib! Mmmph! Curses! Didn't see that coming. Stings like hell, that little bugger!"

She shook her hands and flexed her fingers. "Right, once more with feeling. Hold it steady, need to —"

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she massaged her temples, then her forehead. Her chest swelled under her heavy breathing, and a low, long-drawn "oooooommmmm" reverberated through her body before she started whispering.

"— Slowly, slowly — getting there — hoommmmm — something like a fog, a whirl —" Her fingers closed in again, carefully this time, like working themselves through a jumbled net, until suddenly she snatched the trinket.

"Gotcha, you little bitch!" Yrba's thumbs stroked over the surface, gently caressing the crystal nubs. "Mmmh. You like that, huh? Yeees you do, you horny little nipple. Come on, show me what you are. Nice little toy. Very nice little toy. What's it that you do? —Whoa, dammit, that's a hellofalot of power in such a little thing!"

Her pupils rolled back to the front, and she blinked rapidly and raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, strange guy, that's not just a pretty pendant. Your wife carried it close to her body? She didn't feel something like a sting or whatever?"

Dave shook his head.

"And you didn't respond to it either," the young witch continued. "I guess the both of you are just common people, eh? No history of seeing white wisps of fog or whirls of stars around things. Means you're easy prey for whatever power hides in there."

"Prey? What — what does it do? My wife, she's grown after she wore it."

Yrba raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Grown in her, ah, womanly parts, I mean, and she got insatiable for, uh, the kind of things, err, married people do," Dave stuttered on and fell silent.

More jumping eyebrows.

"I mean — I'm pretty, uh, big, if you know what I mean, and she never could t—take me all the way in, or at all, but suddenly, she finds that pendant, and the very next thing, she sits on me and I'm — up to the hilt, I mean..."

His voice tapered off. Yrba glanced at his crotch and snickered.

"U—huh. Sure. You're too big for women. You know what a woman's fun chute is really meant to let through, don't you? I doubt you're that big."

"Well, ah, no, but —"

Dave sighed and looked away, clenching his hands into fists.

"Listen, it's hard enough telling you all this, so, her — her down below, she was too tight, and she's much bigger now. I'm sure. And she — we — ahem — for whole afternoons and straight into the nights. Not that I don't like it, it was the best, but — I mean, magic —"

The witch exhaled and rubbed her temples.

"Yeah, fine. That's one thing you're right about. That little thing is chock-full of magic alright, strong magic, and it keeps eating it up and stuffing itself, even now. I don't know what it does. Or rather, what that trinket wants. Can tell you that it surely doesn't collect its strength to make your wife right for you or to make the pair of you ahem all evening, though. That's not how these things work. Trust me, I know enough about healing, and making things grow, to recognize them when I see them, and that one here isn't out to do that."

Yrba cocked her head.

"If I were you, I'd get rid of it. Fast."

A smile curled the corners of her mouth, and the chain of the pendant tensed between her grip and David's.

"Just so you know, I've got plenty of experience, disposing of magical items. If you give it to me, you have my word that you'll never see it again in your life."

Bring it back, David.

"Uh, I'm not sure," Dave stuttered. "I mean, I can't just give it away, can I? Maybe someone might want it back, and I — I'm not really —"

"You leave it to me!" hissed the witch, and suddenly, she didn't seem so nice and friendly anymore. David grabbed the chain hard, yanked the pendant from her grip and jumped up to run.

Yrba's angry scream echoed through the nightly forest. David didn't wait around to listen to her toppling, screeching voice.

~

The young witch knelt by the fire, stooping over her hands, swaying back and forth. Tendons bulged all over her neck and dragged the corners of her mouth down. The white teeth in her lower jaw shone red in the flickering fire.

"You stupid bastard! May the magic cut and gut you, you numbskull!" she howled after the fleeing man before she sagged from her haunches to her well-padded buttocks. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Hissing and groaning, she opened her fists and took a look at her now moist, glistening skin. Tiny red droplets swelled from the hair-thin slices that crisscrossed over the mocha skin of her palm. Yrba clumsily fumbled a clean cloth from her travel sack and clenched her fingers around it.

"Don't want my advice?" she moaned, biting her lips in pain. "Fine! Go and get yourself eaten by whatever monster this stupid thing conjures up! See what you'll get then. Oh fuck does it burn!"

~

Chapter 10: Bigger by the Bucketful

~

He's gone two days now, Barbara mused as she used the last daylight to add another layer of stitches to her clothes' seams. Dave must be with the witch now.

She sat naked at the table in the hut's kitchen and general purpose room, stewing in her own sweat. The summer heat outside was just as bad. Barbara pinched her eyes hard. The lids itched with salt.

Eyes tired. Can barely see — ouch!

She threw needle and thread on the table and the gown after them before she sucked on the fingertip she just pricked. "Enough for today," she muttered and rose. Her ears rung faintly, and her temples ached. Really must stop squinting so much, my head's killing me.

The sun's disk was already beneath the horizon. The last reddish glow in the west lost out to the blue hues of the night as Barbara stepped out into the yard and wandered over to the well. The sultry air clung to her sweaty skin. She pulled up a bucket full of cold water and raised it to her mouth.

~

"Ahhh—!" she sighed happily, lowered the bucket and ran the back of her hand over her mouth. Her tongue circled her lips. Sweeter than the sweetest wine.

A frown curled her brow as she stared at the empty pail in her hand. Did I just guzzle a whole bucket of water—? she wondered and took a step backwards.

Something on her front jiggled on after she put her foot down. Barbara lowered her eyes.

Her banshee's wail echoed through the night.

~

"No! Oh please, not this!" Barbara howled. Her hands patted over a belly that shielded her legs and feet from her eyes and still kept on swelling. The dome of taut skin bloated out of her midriff by almost half a yard until it ended in a navel projecting another inch further, driven out of her potbelly's curvature by the inhuman pressure growing inside the sphere. Her panic increased as she felt herself slowly coming apart. The sphere spread out further as its filling seeped in between Barbara's skin and muscles and dissolved whatever held the two together. Its growing weight forced the edge of the swelling lower, and it crept under the skin of her triangle of blond curls, spreading and thinning it as the flesh of her mound of venus expanded.

That's what all of us women go through, but we don't talk about it.

Barbara desperately held on to that thought, trying to keeping her mind from snapping. Oh the gods, I never knew — and if I'd known before, I'd never have dared to tell anyone — I'd never have believed either — oh no, it's about to — eeeeeyyyaah!

The rippling, watery filling reached the top of her outer labia and sloshed into the willing receptacles. The slim folds between her legs thickened while her lust knob swelled to strawberry size, palpitating nervously. Barbara tried to squeeze her thighs together. The groaning and creaking of her hip bones vibrated through her whole body. Her inner lips, slick with her thick secretion, slip-slid out as they bloated too big for her vulva to keep them concealed inside. She let go of her belly that flopped down on her lower arms as she dug her hands into the wrinkly petals of swollen skin. The bolt of arousal hit her, taking her breath away. She dropped to her knees, and the impact forced another pint of stuffing into her nether regions. Her fingers squeezed and kneaded, trying to hold back the incessantly enlarging gate.

Mmmnnh — feels — good, spluttered her scrambled thoughts. Her tight grip just barely stopped the bloating. Gobs of her warm juices seeped through her fingers, elongating into threads with thick drops at the end that slowly descended towards the ground.

Its obvious avenue denied, the bloat of her belly wandered higher, detaching her skin from her ribs, until the edge of the straining bulge touched the underside of her breasts. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, gathering momentum.

Barbara gasped for air as half of her enormous paunch's stuffing breached the borders of her breasts' roots and shot like an ice-cold wave up into the delicate flesh. The sphere shrank marginally while her mammaries jumped up and out, only to slap down on her bizarre belly-boob moments later. For a moment, all of Barbara's bloated front was a quivering, rippling ocean trapped in almost overwhelmed girl skin. Her chest slowed in its growth and finally stopped. The undersides of her boobs tickled at the onset of her navel's small dome.

~

It's never as bad as it seems in the mind, she repeated Leta's soothing words. I'm not that big. I'm not. My skin's just too sensitive. I'm not that swollen. These breasts don't hang down beneath my navel — heh! Navel! My navel's a teat, and I can barely reach it! — No! Not real! Just in my mind! — Not nine months preggers with triplets. It's all just in my mind.

Cradling the overwhelming proof to the contrary in her arms, its drum head-tight skin covered in her wet hand prints, she staggeringly navigated the kitchen and into the bedroom. Every heavy, insecure step made the pair of her pumpkin-sized mammaries shake and quiver on top of the billowing belly-orb in her clutch. Leaving a wide, slimy smear on the blanket, she sat down on the rough mattress, humming to herself, All is well, I'm not bigger, nothing's wrong. Keeping her eyes trained on the full moon outside the window as it rose from the sea, she banned any acknowledgement of the rousing sensations in her rear that told her, mmmh, don't forget that mare's ass, huge and firm and round and oh don't you want to knead and squeeze it already?

"No!" she hollered into the silence of the hut and let herself fall back onto the bed. Too late did she realize that it wasn't just her ordinary shape that came down along with her torso. Her belly almost squeezed her stomach up her throat, and the bloated mountains of her breasts sloshed on the bed and tried to splay sideways. Barbara gnashed her teeth in the pain of her skin struggling near its tearing point. The delicate wrapper held and forced the malleable flesh into a circular swing that ended up slapping against her cheeks before it contracted strenuously back into the two massive heaps of glands that now quivered to the left and right of her ribs while her breastbone felt as if it would rip through the taut skin over it.

Gods, have mercy! So — heavy!

Barbara's one hand grabbed the wrinkled bed sheet. She threw her other arm over her sweaty brow, sealing her eyes from the world. Need to sleep. Just sleep. Tomorrow, all will be normal. Sleep! It'll go away! It's just the night, it's just a trick, a nightmare, go to sleep —

Sleep —!

Sleep — slee — slp —

Hhhhhh —, and finally her body relaxed.

~

Have I been here before? It feels so familiar — like I'm home —

"Not yet, though one day you'll be," whispered a woman into her ear.

"Gaaaah!" shrieked Barbara, her own voice echoing in her head, spun around and tripped over her own feet. She fell slowly, and when her ass finally hit the ground, it felt good, like falling on a fluffy pillow. She sensed the shock wave of the impact rippling leisurely through her body. This was all just so very wrong — and yet so familiar...

Hands gently took hold of her and put her back on her feet. The hands' owners were but shadows in the corners of her sight. She only had eyes for the tall woman in front of her, but she couldn't make out any details over the blinding glitter of the apparition's tight, almost overfilled dress. She tried to look at her face, but it was gone from her mind the very next moment. Just the impression of a caring yet somewhat hungry expression remained in Barbara's thoughts.

"Who are you?" stuttered the fisherman's wife.

The strange woman without a face smiled, slunk closer and ran her fingertips along Barbara's neck and shoulders.

"A friend," was her delayed answer as she finished circling her and stood again face to face with the young woman. "We're all friends here. And we'd like you to become our friend, too." She gently leaned in. Her wet, pouted lips brushed over Barbara's.

"You — taste salty," stammered the confused girl. "Like my husband's seed."

She blushed, jerked back and slapped her hands over her mouth.

The tall woman smiled some more and cocked her head.

"You'll learn one day that there's a reason for this, my dear."

She closed in again. Her hand touched Barbara's cheek.

"And you like that taste, don't you?"

The stranger's fingers guided Barbara's jaw. She didn't resist, because it was inevitable, and it was right, so very right.

Their lips met, and the apparition's wet tongue parted Barbara's pouted lips and snaked into her mouth.

That's not quite a taste, Barbara thought. It was a hint of salt, and of something else. It was almost a non-taste, but it left her longing for more now when just a week ago it might've left her gagging.

"Mmmh," moaned the young woman. She wrapped her arms around the stranger's head and squeezed her tight. Her own tongue stretched into that salty, delicious mouth and sampled more of the alluring taste. Copious saliva trickled into Barbara's mouth. She swallowed it gladly. It tasted exactly like Dave's seed.

The chorus of voices started again. The silver-wrapped woman returned Barbara's fierce embrace, and the touches of the many body-less hands returned as well. Barbara squirmed happily. Her lips gnawed on the other's. Her tongue drew more of the salty goodness into her mouth. The trickle slowly turned into a stream, and its texture changed from water to a thick, hot fluid.

"Drink it," voices whispered by her side. "Drink it all. Oh, there's so much of it, all the better for you to swell."

The hands circled her midriff, and the more daring ones took caressing detours over her chest time and again.

"So much room in there," the whisper went on. "So much room, and so much milk waiting to be made. But first, the cow must be bred, she must be primed."

The other woman's embrace changed, her hands grabbed the back of Barbara's head, and she locked their lips solidly. She rolled back her eyes until only white shone out from under her half-dropped eyelids. Her body's spasms carried through Barbara's limbs as well.

She's a cock, shot through Barbara's mind, and her eyes opened wide. She's a giant cock looking like a woman, and now she's going to — to cum into me! She's — she's —

Drink! Drink! Drink! echoed in her head.

The tide spurted into her like a hot, solid rod being rammed down her throat. The invisible hands clutched her bloating belly and squeezed hard. Any little bulge projecting from between spread-out fingers met another cupped hand and was pushed back in moments later, until her midriff was stuck in a vise of hands, her skin almost humming from pressure.

"Do not want. No big belly. Not for into there," came the whisper.

Barbara convulsed, her body twitching with each rapidly coming wave streaming into her. The liquid that was forced down her throat tried to go anywhere. It soaked into her flesh and carried heat and delight with it. Fingers grabbed her buttocks, and they swelled under the touch.

"Good place," giggled a disembodied voice.

Drink! Drink! Drink! The chorus grew more urgent.

Another pair of hands ran along the underside of her breasts. Fingertips drew lines from her collarbones down to her nipples and met other fingertips coming from the sides.

"Better place," other voices whispered. "Not enough! Need more!"




Siren Song Ch. 03



Part 3 — Ensnared and Enslaved

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

Five parts, an epilogue and a bonus story. That's the new plan. No promises, though. Mermaids' appearance has been postponed to part five. Part three ran a bit long, that's why it's two parts now.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

First Draft started 2008-06-17, this one uploaded 2012-06-17

Spellchecked initially by computer, and proof-reading credits go to Merkava IV and CoffeePilot for their time, suggestions and patience.

~

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

Once upon a time ...

The year is 1185, the world is Altaerna, and the place is somewhere in the temperate climate where people are mostly pale and mostly stubborn.

A winter ago, a lithe and lissom young woman saved a handsome young fisherman from drowning. The fisherman's would-be fiance, headstrong cold-hearted not-so-young Menena, the town's mayor and wealthy shop owner, didn't take it lightly when her trusted maid Barbara and her well-equipped secret boy toy David fell for each other hard and fast despite being unable to join in carnal pleasures (on account of Barbara's nethers being a thimble and David being ... rather more than that).

Consumed by jealousy, Menena saw to it that David was banned from the town, with Menena maligning him whenever she could. Barbara was given the boot but still found a little lenience in Menena's eyes for the years of service, so the lithe blonde was allowed to spend market days in the side streets where she's now trying to sell for a living the fishes that David catches with his tiny boat and his worn nets. The outcast couple of twenty-somethings got secretly married and made it through their first year, living a life of privation in a tiny hut atop the cliffs, hours from the town.

Part 1:

Spring has returned. Going for a swim while waiting for her husband's return, Barbara hits upon a drifting net chock-full of fish while her other half David makes but a single lucky catch out at sea. Reunited, the young couple retreats into their favorite hideaway to have another go at their most pressing problem, their inability to consume their marriage properly. Still unable to succeed, they resort to each other's dexterity like the many times before.

As Barbara prepares lunch gutting the fish David brought, she discovers a valuable pendant in its belly. Putting it on, she — is woken by her husband, hours later. Not only has she developed quite the appetite for the unfamiliar fishes that the new net seems to attract, she also suddenly succeeds in devouring herculean meat (wink, wink). When David sets out to a bigger and more distant town in an effort to sell more of his catches, Barbara ends up doing a little self-exploration on a moonlit night. She also ends up with quite some more Barbara before the night is through. After a day spent in fear and despair, and lucky for her self-conscious mind, a) most of it has disappeared again by the time Dave returns, and b) David doesn't mind the surplus left on her at all.

As the next market day comes around, Barbara squeezes into her now ill-fitting old clothes and is about to go on a quest for answers about what has befallen her, and her first stop will be the town's healer and midwife. Alas, the market isn't over yet ...

Part 2:

Following Barbara's erroneously assuring visit to the town's midwife, Barbara and David indulge in Barbara's new voluptuousness and carnal hunger. As her ever-increasing desires begin to overwhelm David's abilities, he searches for a second opinion on the strange pendant and gets advice from a young, traveling, bad-tempered, dark-skinned dancing girl called Yrba who also happens to be witch. Meanwhile, back home alone, another outbreak of multiple expansion hits Barbara as her strange visions once again cross over into her reality. When she wakes the next morning, more than just her most eye-catching attributes have changed ...

~

Part 3: Ensnared and Enslaved

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"I never wanted trouble / But I sure got enough" — Joan Jett, Victim of Circumstance

~

Chapter 11: New Sensations

~

The little hut crouched atop the grass-covered cliff, overlooking the half-circle of the bright sandy beach almost a hundred feet below. It was new and old and poor at the same time; its structure was barely more than a hodgepodge of stone walls and bleached timbers salvaged from the remainders of old wrecks and the occasional fresh beam, held together by little else than its builders' enthusiasm and hope. No two windows were of the same size or same shape. It had stood the test of the winter storms, though.

A small circular well stood some yards nearby. The hut's forecourt was but a flat area of sand where the narrow path rising steeply from a small pier by the waterline met a slightly wider and deeper one that showed some wheel tracks. The other side of the court was delimited by the low fence of a small garden with a collection of local vegetables.

~ 

Barbara sat at the simple table in her hut's gloom, one hand flat against the wooden surface, the other arm's elbow on the tabletop, cupping her chin and cheek in her hand. The air seemed chillier today, but despite being stark naked, the worried young woman took no notice. Her slender fingers drummed desperately on her cheekbones.

— And what if Dave doesn't like it?

The thought had kept on circling in her head for hours. Sure, the results of the sudden growth burst from last night felt awesome on her hips and ribs, and every few minutes, her hand had gently cupped and kneaded the breathtaking expanse of breasts that now graced her front, but she wasn't quite at ease with it.

Heh, and I was happy when they were like apples. I could've managed with the little melons, too. But this here? After that milk gush, they're the size of my head now. Well, almost. I sure hope they don't grow each time the milk comes out, because there's such a thing as too much, she pondered. Sitting up straight again, she lowered her left hand to her nipples and circled the rubbery flesh with her fingertips. The thimbles of rough skin felt a bit sore after the pints of milk that had erupted out of the many pores.

Barbara's right hand left the table and moved down, laying flush on her thigh now. Her legs weren't as thin as before anymore either. The bulkier muscles hid themselves well beneath the padding that gave Barbara's legs the perfect balance of strength versus smoothness, matching her wider hips to a T yet tapering towards firm, well-defined ankles that she still could wrap her slender hand around.

At least this won't be a problem. Barbara solaced herself as her fingertips circled the plump and domed up vulva taking up all the new space between her legs. She prodded the soft outer pads lightly and ran a finger through the cleft, parting the wrinkles of her fleshy inner lips and feeling the long smooth stretch of rosy skin that lead to the clenched rosette of her vagina's opening. It still felt nice and tight as she dipped the first part of her middle finger into the damp cave, yet if she willed her muscles into relaxing, the hole allowed for four fingers to dive into the lube-soaked tube without as much as a struggle.

Oh my, David's going to have an easier time sliding into me, there's room for two in me now.

Barbara hesitated. She angled her hips and sat on one buttock only, sending her fingers further along the cleft and towards the seam of her perineum. They found something there that she had missed but not expected to show up in that place. Strange. I'm — either I'm getting soft in the head, or my nethers are upside down all of a sudden. Wasn't the pee hole in front? Well, it makes a bit more sense, out of the way in the back where it is now, but —

She smacked her palms against her temples until her head hurt. Keep your mind together, Barbara! As if that matters now! You're easily twice as busty and bulky as before, and David's about to come back any hour! How do you break him the news, eh?

 ~

"Barbara—!"

She heard Dave's call outside and jumped to her feet. Sliding the balk across the door, keeping him out just a little longer, bought her time to think. Barbara leaned against the wood and breathed heavily. She'd spent the whole day musing, but that had not yielded any answer, rather to the contrary. Maybe the saving spark needed just a few moments more —

Her husband rattled the handle.

"Barbara—? Barbara, it's me. Open up, I've got news."

David pushed stronger. It wasn't just the heavy balk that held the door shut from the inside. Weight leaned against the wood from the other side, and he heard his wife's nervous panting. He hesitated, then he rested his forehead against his side of the door.

"It happened again, didn't it?" he muttered.

"Err — yes. I'm afraid it did," Barbara's trembling voice croaked from inside the hut. After a moment's hesitation, Dave heard the scraping noises of the bolt as it was removed.

Barbara cleared her throat. "Ready? And — and you'll tell me honestly if it's too much, right? Even if I can't do a thing about it ..."

She drew open the door and stepped into the frame. Her nipples, engorged to thimble size and riding in the center of domed areolae the diameter of her palms, left the hut first. Then followed her breasts, firm and full and the size of her head, their bases sagging slightly against her ribs to provide a footing to the several handfuls that strained against their silky-soft skin wrapper. Finally, the newly increased body of David's wife crossed the door sill.

On her belly, hips and legs, her slightly bronzed skin didn't adhere quite as strictly to the structure of her muscles as it had before. Now it smoothed gently over the land map of sharply defined sinews beneath and amplified Barbara's carnal allure even more. The perfect hourglass curve from her ribs into her waist and back out over her hips and the tapering thighs had neither nook nor edge nor wrinkle. She shifted her weight on her other leg, and the change in her thighs' and buttocks' tension as muscles clenched on one side and relaxed on the other pressed into the slightly dark swollen outer pads of her vulva and tugged faintly all the way up in her crotch. Her labia slipped the tiniest amount, but she felt the result immediately. Barbara's teeth dug into her lower lip. Wet. Wet again. She pinched her eyes shut and lowered her head. You horny slut, cut that out, she chided herself.

"It's too much now, isn't it?" she whispered fearfully as Dave's silence dragged out too long. Her thoughts somersaulted and descended into a whirl of insecurity. Yes, too much. The gods, I didn't want to see it, but that's what drove him from Menena! And now I'm just as bloated as her, fat and bloated, too heavy for him to hold, with milk buckets slapping into his face! No, the gods no! I could choke him just by embracing him! Just one of my tits could choke him if it dropped on his face! What have I become?

The red glow of sunlight through her clenched eyelids disappeared when his shadow fell over her. His body's warmth announced itself all over the skin of Barbara's front, and then something wet and hot and silky bobbed against her navel. She opened her eyes wide. His girdle and tunic laid some feet away, cast aside in disregard, and the sculpted body she adored so much was just a dick's length from hers. Her nipples on her projecting promontory almost grazed his chest. Peeking down the valley between her breasts, Barbara saw his naked, fully erect pole as it rose and sagged back against the flat curve of her belly in rhythm with his heartbeat. Thin threads of his pre-cum dragged between the purple head and her bright skin. She raised her head to his face. His cheeks glistened almost as wet as the throbbing glans that was just moments from release.

"Barbara," he moaned, his eyes full of longing tears, "Barbara, take me into you, I'm burning up, I can't stand to just watch you anymore, I must have you now!"

 ~

"No!" She pushed him away, and he fell over hard on his butt. She staggered a step backwards across the threshold into the darkness of the hut. "Dave! As much as I yearn for a ride on your rod now, first I need to know — I need — n—need — oh please, David —" She extended a pleading hand to him. With her face hidden in the shadows and the contours of her body only barely outlined, her wailing voice plummeted through the octaves, and her fingers bent into claws.

"The pendant. Mine," rose from her throat and squeezed out through gnashed teeth, then she stumbled forward into the bright day again. The sunlight revealed her relaxed hand and nothing but a nervous plea on her features.

"Barb—," he gulped and pinched his eyes as his erection shriveled up with alarming speed. "Did you just —"

"Did I what? Please, Dave, I'm depending on you! What did the witch say? I need to know!"

~

The young couple sat, clothed again and facing each other, at the sturdy table in their hut. The pendant sparkled on the tabletop between them.

"— And then she tried to catch me, but I lost her in the woods," Dave finished his only slightly exaggerated tale.

"That's spooky! Oh my. So I better don't wear it. For shame, because it's truly beautiful. But what about my —," she pointed at her most prominent assets, "— my growing rounder? Did she say anything at all about that?"

"Well, she surely looked like a woman in the know about round, I tell you. She didn't say much about it, only that it's not the pendant because that's not what those things do. She might've lied about that just to get her hands on it, though."

Barbara lowered her head.

"I don't think she lied," she whispered. "Dave, you almost burst your seed all over my belly just staring at me, but have you truly seen me since you came home?"

Her hand reached for her dress, and she opened the straining fasteners. Her voluptuous chest sagged forward. "See? All that, it came to me the night before yesterday, in the blink of an eye, and with the pendant gone. So how can it be the pendant's fault, if it was miles away? Dave —" Her eyes filled with tears. "Dave, I know you say I'm becoming a woman, but — but I'm having doubts about it. It feels so good, it's like — but it can't go on like that, can it? Am I not — I mean — I'm feeling huge. Huge and bloated and ugly. Nobody can want someone who looks like me."

She turned her head away. "Worst thing is, I — I always long for sex now, every waking hour. I'm ugly and stuffed with fat and still it's like I'm empty inside, and I need — I want — I must be filled, I'm —"

Barbara gulped. "Just t—talking like that, I'm all wet now and h—horny, I'm such a slut."

She grabbed her head with both hands and ruffled her hair in desperation. "Oh just listen to me! I'm ranting like — like the first time it happened! It's like — like I'm half-happy and half-scared! I—mmmpff!"

Dave swept her off her chair and pulled her into his tight embrace. He broke his kiss just long enough to whisper, "You're not fat and ugly." His hands closed around Barbara's waist, and he felt her abs as they contracted and firmed up under his thumbs. The layer of padding didn't make things worse. It made it so much better.

"That's not fat! Well, maybe. But it's the good kind! Look at you! Look at your shapely belly! Your marvelous legs! You're curvy! Gorgeous and curvy!"

He bent his knee in front of her like the last time. His hands followed the smooth skin of her thighs, tracing the firm muscles hiding just beneath the surface. His fingertips sank into the valley between the tendons on the back of her knees before his palms cupped the double mounds of her calves.

"See? Oh Barbara, listen, there's not an ounce of ugly on you, it's all woman! Gods, you're strong and curvy and round in all the right places!" He rose and cupped her bulging breasts, kneading the three-quarter spheres gently as they settled into his hands. "And those — smooth and soft and full of milk, as they are to be. I just want to kiss and suckle and hold you forever. Barbara, you're the most desirable woman in the whole world, bar none!" Dave's hands left the slightly sagging orbs and followed the depression of her spine down to the globular shape of her buttocks. He grabbed Barbara at the onset of her toned legs and hoisted her onto his hips.

Barbara clenched her thighs around her lover. Her arms wrapped around Dave's head and forced him right between her bulging breasts, choking be damned!

"Prove it!" panted Barbara, her chest and face flushed with arousal. "Prove it again you truly love this ugly me!"

"The gods, wife! I will! Time and again!" mumbled Dave from the warm abyss of her cleavage, stumbling backwards, almost overwhelmed by her weight as she clung to him and ground her hips on his.

"Take me," she moaned. "Gods, take me, I've been waiting for days. I need you to take me right now! Do it like last time, pound the love of my body right back into me!"

Barbara let go and knelt down, untying his belt with deft fingers while David pulled his tunic over his head.

Need him big and hard and glowing! Must burn all the wailing stupid from me with this poker! raced her thoughts as her hands closed around her husband's still dangling cock. Barbara's lips opened just wide enough to let half of his glans in, then she took a deep breath against the plug in her mouth. With Dave's member still malleable, the building vacuum in her chest squeezed and pulled him through the slippery O. Her cheeks fell in as she sucked frantically, and the flesh in her mouth swelled and hardened until it felt like solid wood in a silky wrapper to her pouted lips.

Barbara angled her head and took him in deep, swallowing gently and relaxedly with her tongue rippling around every inch as it advanced down her throat. Pouting her lips, she put their firm seal around her husband's pole and drew him in a bit deeper as she lowered her jaw. She felt a slight tension under her cheekbones, then something clicked just under her ears. David's swollen glans passed easily through the yielding gate at the back of her mouth, and Barbara felt the slick cone as it went into the ribbed sheath of her gullet without as much as a gag or a choke. She pouted again and repeated her nibbling motions, guiding her husband's thick rod with her tongue and consuming the raw meat inch by inch until finally her nose dug into Dave's pubic curls.




Siren Song Ch. 03



"Gods Barbara —!" moaned Dave with his eyes rolled back and his face raised to the ceiling, and so he missed the strange and spectacular sight of his wife's stretched throat that pulsed around the throbbing cock filling her from her lips to just beneath her collarbones.

"Mmmngnnn —," she groaned, and the vibrating and tickling spread from her throat up and down along Dave's swollen rod. His breathing came faster. Every tightening gulp of Barbara became a milking motion that threatened to drag him across the threshold.

She released him inch by inch, moving her head back and forth, with the releasing strokes ending just a bit farther each time. Her lips neared the thin sensitive band of skin under his glans. David groaned, moments from erupting. Barbara immediately opened her mouth wide and let him out without a further brush.

"No, not yet," she whispered. David forced his eyes open. He staggered backwards against the hut's wall, staring at what Barbara's lips had unleashed from his loins.

"The gods—," he stammered, his lust colliding with disbelief. "What have you done?"

David's cock now stretched beyond the already oversized length he had been gifted with. At least two inches more had come out of his wife's mouth than what they both knew so very well by now. The pole of throbbing flesh stood like a lower arm with swollen root-like veins spreading under the glistening skin.

"Mmmh—mh—mh—mmmmhh!" sang Barbara, her eyes firmly locked on the bobbing head. Pre-cum wormed down from the gaping hole pulled wide by the straining skin of the glans. David trembled and slowly slid down the wall, both hands grabbing the root of the trunk projecting from his hips. His gasps became spasmodic as more blood streamed from his body into his raging erection.

"Dizzy —," he managed, all the while feeling nothing but cock. Barbara was by his side in a heartbeat.

Feed him. Weak. Need him strong! Feed him! whispered a voice in the back of her head. She cast aside her own gown, knelt down and bedded David's upper body on her thighs. Her heavy breasts dangled just above his pale, sweaty face. David's dry lips found her loaded, swollen teat.

Slllrrp —

"Unnngh—!"

Barbara rocked both their bodies gently, eyes closed, her face towards the ceiling, cradling her husband's head to her breasts as she let down. Less than an arm's length away on the table, the blue stone in the pendant sparkled stronger as Barbara's rich milk filled David's stomach.

~

David woke and opened his eyes against a warm, semi-firm pillow over his head. Sweet milk lingered in his mouth, and he recognized the distinct taste.

"Barbara?" he mumbled into the soft flesh. The silky pressure on his face was lifted. Her nipple, huge and coated in wetness like the palm-sized areola around it, dangled inches away. He raised his hands and adored the womanly bell of milk, stroking it gently.

"Oh Barbara, you're the most lovely wife anybody could hope for," he gushed before he pulled the breast in again and placed a ring of kisses around the crinkled nipple. He felt slightly light-headed but refreshed and ready for anything.

"Mmmmh," she groaned, stroking his limp penis. It swelled in her grip and easily outgrew her hand's clutch. "You're better now?" Her question came with a worried air David couldn't quite understand. His hands ran down her concave waist and out across her juicy buttocks.

"The voyage must've worn me out a bit, but after your delicious milk I'm feeling better than ever! Oh just you wait, love, this time it won't be me giving in first," he replied, wrapping his other arm around her back and pulling her down. Her breasts enveloped his face, and he kept on squeezing kisses into the warm crevice. Each kiss sent a twitch of swelling and thickening into his crotch. "Mmmwa! I'll ride you until you're splayed out like a beached octopus, my greedy limpet!"

David reached for his rod and felt the barely contained pressure and hardness in his fist. He hesitated but for a moment before he chuckled, "Look here, Barbara! Big Dave's giving it his all, just for you! What are we going to do about this poor straining piece of meat? Do you think you can take all of that?"

"I'll never stop trying," she laughed relievedly and raunchily, crawling over him. Barbara spread her legs, leaning back with her buttocks on his knees. Her one hand's fingers split her reddened outer pads. The gods, he's mighty big now, for sure! She bent forward and closed her fingers around the pole just behind the glans. David pushed his thighs up and jiggled her just a little closer. Her knees slid across the floor as she thrust her hips forward and shortened the distance between her crotch and the blunt spearhead in her hand. She needed to push quite hard to bend it towards the right angle.

"Nnngh! Gently, Barb, it's so hard, don't break it!"

"Hahhh!" she gasped as her wrinkly rosette spread on the purple-glowing cone. "Oh yes! Oh yes!"

She tensed her thighs and lifted her buttocks off David's legs. The distance grew shorter, and the glans strained in, stretching her moist petals wide around its increased girth.

"Hnnngghh!"

"Barbara —"

Sglorsh.

Thick and viscid was the discharge that seeped from Barbara's swollen inner lips. The copious lube clung to the swollen glans and eased the conquering first penetration by David's new cock.

"Fine. I'm fine," she panted.

"Barbara, your womb —"

"Womb — is fine — too —" Her mutterings were almost inaudible under her throaty gasps. She leaned forward. Her breasts' sweaty skin slipped over her ribs as they move from hanging outwards to dangling forward, and as she sank closer to her husband, she forced another couple of inches of Big Dave inside, reaming her soaked tunnel wider and deeper.

"Clutch of the gods," he moaned. "So — good! But I'm so big — I can see it — filling you!"

Panting and swaying, Barbara craned her neck and pulled sideways at her breasts to get a glimpse beyond the rounded twin cones of her dangling mammaries. David was right. Down at her mound of venus, her engorged lust hood grew out of a curly bush centered on a trunk bulging under her skin. Thick muscle ribs the diameter of her pinky laid wrapped like rings around David's colossal cock inside her. Even the ridge behind the glans showed through the adapting tube. Snake-like constrictions crawled along the sheath that had hidden under Barbara's midriff. The top of the elongated bulge just barely lifted her navel. The thought of strange drowned in oh the gods that's so good and so massive!

"Well," she moaned, "you've never been so big before! Bad husband, holding out on your wife! Could've seen me bloating with your cock for weeks, y'know?"

"Unngh! Bad wife, could've given me more of your delicious cock-growing milk before!" he answered through clenched teeth, forcing another half-inch into the tight clutch of her sheath.

Barbara's fingers traced the edge of the distended muscle up to her navel. She felt its ripped structure well beyond that point, not showing through her skin in its unfilled shape but definitely there to her fingertips. It offered capacity at least to her sternum. She compared the empty length of her to the rod of him still remaining outside. Barbara smiled.

"Not filling enough yet," she groaned and began thrusting her hips again, consuming inch upon inch.

~

"Filling enough now?" moaned David as finally, Barbara's cherry laid trapped in the fold of his pubes and the deepest root of his herculean cock. There was not another fraction of an inch he could get deeper into her. David felt the milking motions of her sheath, its throbbing, dilated shape squeezing Barbara's flushed sweaty skin against his midriff. Their bodies were one, wrapped in each other's arms, a single creature forged of carnal frenzy and delights beyond each of their imaginations.

Barbara panted rapidly and struggled to get the ancient prayer of "oh the gods — oh the gods — oh the gods" from her throat. The thing inside her — David inside her, bigger than ever, filling her new womb, filling her every inch —

"M—make m—me c—come!" she begged, writhing in his embrace. "Can't — take it — aaaaah!—nnny longer — need — release!"

He kissed his way along her neck and across her cheeks until their lips locked.

"Mmmggh!" she groaned, still clawing at the mountain ridge of her climax. Why can't I come! I — these delights — the fire! Can't stand it anymore! She wrapped her arms tighter around her husband. His fingers left her back and stroked along her shoulders. Struggling in her firm embrace, he dug his hands around her confined breasts and squeezed them outwards. Her nipples popped free.

David pinched and rolled the hard thimbles between thumbs and forefingers. Barbara's breath stopped. Trembling, she became ramrod stiff. The muscular sheath relaxed all the way for the briefest moment.

It clenched down hard on the root of David's cock, forbidding any retreat. Waves of contraction started racing up along its length, milking him forcefully. Dave's balls spat fire into his ducts. His boiling seed was sucked out even against the stranglehold on the base of his rod. Just before he lost himself in the explosion, he saw Barbara's eyes as they rolled back. An unearthly smile spread her mouth.

~

Chapter 12: Barbara's Choice

~

Days later.

~

"Maybe I shouldn't sail to the city, what with the state you're in," Dave suggested.

Barbara stopped handing him baskets into the boat. "Uh—huh, yes, the state I'm in. Last night you couldn't stop suckling the state of me from my tits. No, Dave. I'm good. Better than ever! Look at me!"

She straightened, her curvaceous body still stark naked and glowing after her brisk morning swim. Wetness darkened her blond hair that clung to her back and shoulders. The few remaining droplets on her toned skin sparkled in the morning sun as she turned on the spot and put her hands akimbo, leaving her full, firm chest time and room to calm its swinging by itself. Looking up from his swaying boat at the goddess proudly towering above him on the pier, Dave let out a whistle.

"The gods, Barbara! I'll say it again! Your chest — your waist — your ass — your legs!"

"Yes, Dave, and finally I know it, that's the most important thing. Really, I'm fine." Barbara ran her fingers from her hips over her buttocks and back to the front. "Mmmh, I love my body. Even if I gain another inch while you're away, I promise you won't find me bawling my eyes out and cowering in some corner anymore. Not after you've shown me time and again how much you adore the new me."

"Still, dear, I'd feel so much better if you'd be coming with me. Just this once."

"Goodness, Dave!" laughed Barbara as she sat down on the warm wood of the pier and let her legs dangle. "There are so many things that need fixing around the hut. Y'know the only time anything gets done anymore is when we're far enough apart, my stallion."

"It's not exactly my fault, my greedy broodmare," he sighed with a smile and lowered his head.

"You're no good at resisting either," she shot back, raised a leg and tapped her toes playfully against his lower ribs. "Promise you won't ogle any of those city dames, husband?"

"Oh, as if those uptight broads would know what to do with Big Dave anyway," he smirked. "Just need to keep him tied up well behind my belt, the old snake's become quite lively from your milk and all the squeezing your womb likes to do."

She snickered as she glanced at David's crotch. His tunic concealed the massive delights underneath quite well. "Lucky you, having married the one girl who knows how to treat him right, eh? So do your business and hurry on home again! Who knows, I might stumble upon the pendant, and just imagine how big I'd end up then."

David's voice lost all of its playfulness. "Barbara, don't even joke about that. I thought we'd agreed on never mentioning it again. It's gone, and that's that."

"Oh come now, Dave. I promised I won't wear it again, and now that you've hidden it, what's the harm in a little joking? You could've thrown it out into the ocean somewhere deep, if it bothers you so much."

"Yes, and suppose some evil wizard shows up and demands it back? Those folks don't take 'no' for an answer, from what I've heard. No, it's better to have it in a place where we can get our hands on it, if need be."

"Pshaw, wizards and witches. Like that one girl you told me about? Doesn't sound like it's worth worrying about," Barbara snickered. "Maybe she was just a," Barbara wiggled her shoulders and caused her breasts to swing, "dancer, y'know? Just a busybody out to impress people by playing the big bad witch."

~

Barbara waved after him until the tiny sail had disappeared from sight. She turned her head and looked up at the path to their hut. Her lips curled from her gnashed teeth.

Market day's about to begin. And I'm not going to give Menena the pleasure of me hiding from her stupid marketplace any more.

I'll sort things out with her, once and for all! I've been her maid for years, and we always got along. That's got to count for something. I won't let this — this strange hazing go on, not for the life of me! I was scared when I looked a twig, but not anymore!

Her face relaxed, she raised her eyebrows and smiled wearily. No, no more excuses.

She could hear Dave's voice again, the very words he'd said after she suggested it the last time: "Love, are you sure this is a good idea? Y'know, old wounds, fury like a woman scorned, and all that —"

"I really, really hope so," Barbara sighed.

She pushed herself off the trunk that marked the end of the pier, straightened and began the ascent.

~

Chapter 13: Shop of Doom

~

"I'm sorry, I'm all out," Barbara explained for the umpteenth time. The thwarted client looked down, dragged his feet and slowly wandered off. She had noticed his incredulous stare at the regions beneath her face and neck very well. Very well happened to be the way that her dress showed off her newly gained assets, too. The durable linen had once covered any trace of skin above her knees and below her neck, but when Barbara had sewn it, she'd been quite a few sizes smaller in the chest. Even with the seams patched and widened after Leta's suggestion, the top hooks and strings gaped open now and were only able to frame the tightly packed pair of milk melons and the deep cleavage between them. Any sharp motion could be the straining cloth's last.

She folded up and stowed the wobbly contraption that held the cart in place and doubled as a chair. The sun had passed through midday and stood near two in the afternoon. Its light, reflecting off the lime wash of the narrow side street's walls, had a golden hue to it. The market would go on for another two hours, but with nothing left to sell, Barbara packed up early and headed out the gate.

~

Barbara dragged her empty cart along the road for maybe five minutes. As soon as she was in the first patch of trees and out of sight of the town, she took a sharp turn into the brushwood and hid the cart. Stepping back onto the dirt track and walking again towards the cluster of buildings, her gait had a newfound determination to it.

~

Her elevated feelings didn't last long. By the time she reached the first houses again, Barbara no longer walked down the middle of the road but sidled nervously. Now she crouched behind the last corner leading to the marketplace. Her heart thumped in her throat.

Here goes nothing.

Barbara sighed and straightened. As her trembling hands smoothed at a few wrinkles on her skirt, her gaze couldn't escape the very special gravity of her protruding chest.

So much skin showing! Gods, if I walk like that across the market — I know these chin-waggers, used to be one myself —

She pulled the red bandanna from her golden mane, unfolded the cloth and fashioned a makeshift hood from it that covered all of her hair and shoulders and hung low enough to conceal her breasts' overwhelming bulge as long as she kept her elbows angled and her hands on the tails level with her chest. As she lowered her face, she noticed consciously that her shins were covered in dust and her bare feet had spots of dirt on them. The frayed rim of her gown reminded her about her clothes' overall worn appearance, and that didn't help at all.

I was so confident! Oh just look at yourself now, Barb —

No! One moment longer, I turn and run! I won't run! No more!

She stepped around the corner. Barbara had been here countless times before, back in the days when things were better and Menena was still a strict but fair mistress to her young housemaid. She had strolled across the market week after week, taking the first and best picks for her mistress. Yet somehow, the stretch of cobblestones leading up to the mayor's house and general store seemed so much longer today. Barbara prodded herself into action and took a first step.

She nodded and greeted shyly to the market women as she passed their booths. The looks she earned were indifferent at best, openly hostile at worst. Halfway across the expanse, Barbara lowered her head even more and ceased looking to make eye contact. She had grown up here, she knew everyone around here, and yet now whispers flew across her wake. She couldn't plug her ears to them, and in her mind, they turned into the growls and snarls of a hungry pack of she-wolves.

Look at her. Look at that brazen little hussy! ... all the men ran to her cart today! ... flaxen-haired trollop! ... did you hear whom she calls her husband? ... homewrecker ... how dare she show herself here ... parading those melons like that ... a shame! ... no wonder she's in Menena's bad books ... there would've been blood, I tell you, I would've not only kicked her out if she'd set her eyes on my man ...

Barbara had to will herself into keeping her stride even, to keep on walking — no running! Don't run! — towards the building looming ahead. She felt her resolve dwindling, and prayed she'd be at the door before it had all but petered out.

I never did anything to anyone, she wailed inwardly. Oh please, gods, why me? Why me?!

An eternity had passed when finally her fingers closed around the handle. She took a couple of deep breaths.

~

The metal bars over the frame jingled as Barbara pushed the door open just wide enough to sneak in sideways. She looked around. The shop hadn't changed much since she last set foot in here, almost a year ago.

"Don't put that there, Anton! Take it over to the other side, there's too much stuffed into that rack already." Menena's voice clearly hadn't lost the ability to be as gentle and caring as an arrow to the knee. She either hadn't noticed the new arrival or decided that a customer couldn't be as important as making sure things were stowed the right way — which of course meant her way. Her being usually right didn't make it easier for the scrawny young man who had replaced Barbara. He struggled with a heavy, square basket, trying to lift it to the top of a shelf by the far wall.

Menena's thick, slightly curly black hair hid her face. She half leaned, half sat behind the counter and was busy keeping her books and records current. Every now and then, her quill's scraping stopped. Ding, went the small inkhorn as the tip struck the rim.




Siren Song Ch. 03



The scraping noises stopped. Menena exhaled audibly.

"Anton! Really! The other other side!" she called out. Menena jumped to her feet and strode over, pulling the basket from his hands and chucking him aside with a well-aimed bump from her fertile hips. She hadn't changed at all, realized Barbara, neither in looks nor attitude. Half a head smaller than tall Barbara, the shopkeeper knew all too well that her figure, eye-pleasing as it was, leaned to the stocky side of women. As if to balance things out, nature had provided her with a more than abundant rack of surprising firmness that sagged down just because supporting the volume of elongated watermelons jutting out perpendicularly was beyond the capabilities of human flesh. Menena's choice of clothes, dark, velvety, expensive and with significant reinforcements visible only to the trained eye, highlighted her massive mammaries and at the same time forced her waist into a slightly tapering form, almost concealing the cutest paunch a man could want to rest his head on. The long skirt flared around her luscious hips and bubbly rear. Underneath, her strong but not overly thick legs tapered to narrow ankles. Barbara knew that Menena was almost twice her age, rapidly approaching forty now. Nobody would've said that after a look into her stern face. In fact, the slightly round face devoid of wrinkles and the pair of big, dark green eyes under vaguely angled, thin eyebrows seemed to belong to a woman of no more than thirty. If ever the thought of age occurred to anyone eyeing the attractive, determined woman, that thought came in the seductive wrapping of experience, prurient, hungry, upfront, greedy experience.

~

Anton wasn't in the mood or position to entertain, or even dare, such thoughts as he received an elaborate and vitriolic tongue-lashing. Barbara retreated into the dimly lit corner by the door and only cleared her throat after Menena had cooled her temper and sat back behind the counter.

"Ahem—"

After a cursory glance at the hooded figure bowing timidly, the voluptuous raven lowered her face back into the weighty tome and growled, "Well, look what the cat dragged into my store. It's the man-stealing, ice-blooded, beanstalk floozy with her flaxen hair, and she doesn't even dare to show her face." The quill in her hand continued its dance down a long column of numbers, but the scraping seemed louder now, paper protesting faintly under unnecessary pressure. "If you have money to spend, then stay where you are, tell me what you want and then get out. I'll have someone bring your deliveries over — if I get around to it. Times are busy. Pick 'em up next time you're in town. I heard you've recently come to enjoy your place in the side street." There was an audible hiss to the last words.

"Menena — can we talk alone, please?"

The raven put the quill and inkhorn aside and nodded to the young man.

"Anton, outside. Seems the red-hooded harlot wants to do women's business," she snarled. He curtsied to her and fled, casting a pitying glance at Barbara as he passed her. The door slammed shut behind him.

Barb looked around. They were alone. She sighed.

"Menie, please. What have I ever done to you?"

"That's Menena to you," was the chilly reply as Menena rose, clenched her fists and leaned forward, putting her knuckles on the table. Her eyes never left the tabletop as she added, "And you very much know what you did to me, servant. Tell me, do you snicker and giggle when my man mounts you at night, or do you howl your frozen soul out in those stolen delights? Do you drip and squirt when he drives his —," her features softened for a moment, and her eyelids closed halfway, caught in delicious memories, "—uunh thick pole into you?"

Barbara's cheeks turned rosy, and she took a deep breath. Menena's flash of sensual absence was contagious. They both knew all too well what they were talking about. Barb wrestled down the budding arousal.

"Me—nena, it was his decision to leave you. I never —"

The shopkeeper turned away brusquely and grabbed the edge of the table behind her.

"Do you think I don't know that?" she muttered, her head hanging. "You never wondered why I'm still letting you into the market? You never wondered why it's him I don't want to see in this town? And still —"

She breathed in deeply and turned back. Menena's moment of rumination was gone. Her gaze was cold and scornful as it locked on Barbara's azure eyes. Her words were a drooling snarl. Little droplets of spit flew as she bellowed her rage at the girl before her and watched her twitch like under the whip.

"And still you have the nerve to show up and remind me, week after week! You know why I sent you to those sidelines? So I don't have to see your face time and again, reminding me that you betrayed me as well. You don't want to anger me, maid. I held back, I spared you, because once upon a time, you were faithful to me, because once upon a time, I saw a lost orphan and took her into my services, after that horrible storm that claimed almost half the village! You were my confidante, Barb! And then? What happened, you flirt? You whore! You knew he was mine! Doesn't change a thing that he walked out on me, he would've seen that I'm the right one for him, with time. But nooo, the scrawny snake I fed on my very own bosom is the one tripping him up just as he's about to turn back! And she coils up around him, keeping him from seeing the truth!"

Pale and shaking, Barbara wheezed, "I never — Dave never — Oh the gods! Menena, is that what you think about me? It wasn't like that! Not at all! I never knew about you and him — he was just alone, and — and he was so thankful for me saving him from drowning. I never wanted to hurt your feelings! Oh please, please, M—Menena, can't you find it in you to — to forgive me?" Pleadingly she held out her hands. The cloth covering her ample cleavage parted.

Menena's head jerked up. Her eyes darted to Barbara's chest, then down to her own, and the inevitable comparison she drew between herself and Barbara did not yield a result that would've calmed her anger.

"What the — oh great! And on top of all that, now you're a late bloomer, eh? What now, huh? You're going to parade around, ruining the last little fame left for me? Oh, I can just see what you're going to do! You're going to thrust your tits into the men's faces until they come to me, begging for me to let you back in because oooh lookit the poor sweet girl and her poor sweet fat udders of youthful firmness?"

She circled the counter and hesitated when all of Barbara's body came into her view. Her face grew pale and her jaw dropped. The shopkeeper's eyes bugged as she measured up the divine shape of the meek girl's figure squirming in front of her. Not even the worn clothes could conceal the alluring curve of Barbara's hips and her toned thighs. Even her dust-covered feet with the narrow ankles would've sent men kneeling and kissing them clean. For a few moments, Menena's breathing, heavy with rage, was the only sound.

Then she took another step forward, clenching her fists. "No. No way! I've had it! That's enough! You hear me?" Her hands flew up, she leaned in. "Enough! D'you think I'll let you get away with stealing Dave, after he's ruined any other man for me? D'you think I'm happy just pleasing myself night after night because curse all those twig dicks in this sinkhole of a town?!"

~

Barbara backed away, a lump in her throat and the itching of tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Please, Menena, I never — I didn't want to upset — I was wrong to come here — I'll just go — You won't see me again —"

She licked her dry lips.

She tasted salt. Every place in her mouth tasted like the sea.

No, no, not now, oh mercy of the gods, not now, not on top of that —

Heat flushed Barbara's face, but it wasn't the heat of embarrassment. It was the bad heat, the harbinger of milk. It spread on down her neck, down over her chest. Her nipples hardened. She slapped her one hand over her cleavage's deepening chasm, the other fumbled blindly for the door as she slowly backed away. Fear shone in her eyes as she felt the cloth tightening across her chest.

"I — I need to go."

Menena circled her effortlessly and blocked the exit, standing akimbo in the door frame.

"You're not going anywhere," she snarled. "We'll sort this out here and now. You haven't heard half of what I'm going to call you, you whore! You sneaky, filthy —"

"No!" wailed Barbara. She spun around and backed away, towards the center of the room. "You don't understand! I — must — leave — now!" The itching grew stronger. Hot milk kept building up inside her. Barbara sensed every single tiny duct in her bosom as they were slowly filled by the liquid exuding from the bulbous glands deep in her flesh. The spongy expansion had started deep at the center of her mammaries and radiated outwards now. The first seams protested quietly, and Barbara felt the trembling and groaning of yielding linen as it fought a valiant last stand.

Her other hand joined the desperate spread-fingered struggle to contain her growing chest. The heat wormed into her nipples and made them bulge against Barbara's palms. Leta Mawson could kneel and kiss Barbara's luscious ass for all she cared, but Barbara just knew in her heart that Dave had been right and these rushes couldn't be normal. Alas, that insight came too late, far too late —

"Please! Menena, please let me go!" She needed to adjust her grip, digging into her breasts' underside to support her growing roundness.

The shopkeeper's gaze strayed from Barbara's worried face and towards her squeezing hands.

~

Menena's eyes grew bigger, if that was at all possible. She stared down on the thimble-sized bulges on Barb's chest that neared the frayed rim as the bloating flesh outgrew its wrapper. The darker areolae already showed in the overwhelmed gap of the surrendering cloth.

"Your tits — oh the gods, they're getting bigger!" she gasped, one trembling hand pointing, the other halfway to her open mouth. "You're growing! You're growing before my eyes! What in the heavens' names is that?"

"Nothing!" Barbara shrieked. "Nothing at all! Now let me out! Let me — nngh!"

Barbara's face screwed up. Building arousal collided with the first faint stings of too much under her skin. The tendons on her neck showed.

"Too late — tearing — apart — so full — of milk," she moaned. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

Menena hesitated but for a moment, then she spun around and rummaged the earthen pots on the shelves.

"No matter how much I'd like to see that, I can't have you running from my shop all bawling and clothes torn, it's bad for business," she snarled through gritted teeth and over the faint rending of Barbara's dress as the swelling flesh spilled out.

"Here, chew down on this! It'll help." The shopkeeper held a bunch of wrinkly green leaves up to Barbara's face. The girl grabbed the half-dozen with both hands, stuffed them in her mouth and munched them down.

"Yerch! Pfuah! What vile weed was that?"

Menena saw her enemy's swallow, and the mask of her worried expression slowly turned into a malicious grin.

"Glad you're asking just now," she snickered. "Milkmaid's Friend. Good for cows. Don't you like it, you cow? Huh? Can you feel it already?"

Her fingers made little milking motions. "Now I've got you where you belong! It's for when they don't give enough milk, you see? You think you're big? Oh my, will you fill up now! Yes, it'll help your udders to really bloat with the white deliciousness. Let me get my bucket, swollen cow. Now you'll give back and back to me! Now I'll drain you good!"

"No! Oh no, Menena, are you mad? What have you done — Let me go! Ouch!" Another loop gave in and snapped painfully across Barbara's continually deepening cleavage. The edge of her neckline dug deep into her flesh, and her malleable breasts squeezed themselves through the window towards sweet liberty.

"You really want to go outside now?" smirked Menena. "Oh, your little secret is out! Out for all to see! Hah! I always knew it wasn't just your looks that led my Dave astray! And now that your lecherous tricks have turned against you, do you really want to run across the market with your clothes torn and your strange, growing, heavy breasts hanging out? You want me to tell them all how I saw you change? You really want me to tell them, witch? Do you think your wiles will still sway them? The men, maybe, you loose enchantress, but do you think us women take kindly to a cunning devil's whore out to seduce and steal our men?"

All color drained from Barbara's face. "Oh please, Menena, please — I'm no witch, I — I can't help it! It just happened! Please, don't make me into a witch. I heard them, they'll burn me! I know you hate me, but please, don't let them kill me!"

The shopkeeper's wicked smile grew wider.

"Oh, so you've got a little brain in that blond head of yours? Good! No, I won't make you a witch, if you behave, servant. Oh yes, if you obey, then I'll let you live. Death would be too easy a punishment for what you've done to me anyway. Yes, I'll do something much better. Much, much more satisfying. For me."

Tears ran down Barbara's face. Her delicate skin strained painfully around the swelling, overfilled ducts in her breasts. "Menena, why — what — what are you — gods!" Barbara swayed, then she broke to her knees, her face contorted in agony. Her dress gave in with a high-pitched tearing sound. Suddenly there was a neckline that reached well to Barbara's navel, and her inflated breasts jumped out, each almost twice the side of her head. Spurred by the weed, her glands throbbed and trembled incessantly now, draining her strength and turning it into more and more milk that threatened to come out either through the swollen, hardened nipples or right through her bursting flesh.

"What — what — what," mocked Menena, towering akimbo over the half-dressed, convulsing woman. "What I'm going to do? I already did! I made you my very own milk cow, that's what I've done." She leaned down and grabbed Barbara's hair, forcing her face up. "Don't you need relief, huh? Don't you long for a pair of hands to ease your swollen burden before you burst? And who else can you turn to now, huh? Who in this whole village will not burn you at the stake, huh? So down, cow! On your hands and knees, and crawl to the back room like the obedient livestock you are! I want to see you hang your teats into the milk bucket right now!"

Menena shoved her down again. Sobbing and sniffing, Barbara rolled from crouching to all fours and followed the command. Her breasts dangled and mashed into each other, her nipples almost dragging across the ground as she struggled into the dark adjoining room.

~

Menena slammed shut the door, knelt down by her stock, grabbed a wet rag and quickly ran it over her cow's hard nipples. Barbara squeaked in chilly surprise.

"Quiet, you!" chided the shopkeeper. Her fingers felt up the heavy, dangling orb of Barbara's left breast, then wandered over to the other side.

"They are pretty impressive, you know? Don't befit your slender frame, but they feel really nice."

Menena gave the pumpkins in her grip a gentle kneading. Barbara stifled a shriek of overfilled pain. Wet white warmth spilled instantly over Menena's palms.

"And they're so very full. Oh, I like me some fresh milk. Alas, can't have it from neither cow nor goat. That kind doesn't agree with my innards and makes me sick for days. But now I've got a very special one, giving plenty of the only milk I can stomach, for free, and instead of a smelly, dirty beast and the expenditures for a stable, she'll be oh so clean and easy on the upkeep, won't she?" snarled Menena.

Barbara nodded. "Yes, yes, anything, just — relief, oh the gods, relief! Can't — not a moment longer —"

"So let's see how much we can draw from you." Menena pinched the rough strawberries lightly before she kneaded the puffy areolae. Barbara's moan started in pain but turned into a sound of deepest relief as almost a dozen of thin white jets sprayed from the crinkled buds with amazing intensity. Menena hurriedly pulled up a bucket and lifted the sloshing orb across the rim.

"My, you're just dying to give back to me, eh?" she smirked.

Barbara's letdown grew into a steady flow with Menena's forceful strokes from the root down to the tip of the dangling udders.

~

Humiliating as it was, it felt good. It felt right, for whatever weird reason. An aroused moan escaped Barbara's lips, and she regretted it the very next heartbeat. Menena stopped her stroking and put her lips right next to Barbara's ear.

"Cow likes, huh?" she whispered.

"No," sobbed Barbara.

"Oh, don't you worry. What did you think I was going to do? Pinch your teats like this?"

Barbara flinched, but the pain didn't come. Menena's fingers touched the engorged nipple lightly, rubbing it with her well-lubed fingertips only. A shiver ran down Barbara's spine, and both her nipples sprayed even stronger. The milk stood an inch high in the bucket under her breasts, its surface crowned with a layer of foam as the thin jets bubbled into the rising liquid.

"You're in your place now, cow. You're no longer the girl that stole my man. Now you're mine. My cow. And if there's one thing I learned, it doesn't pay to anger the cow if you want lots and lots of fat milk. See how your udders agree with me?"

Menena's hands cupped one breast, massaging it firmly but gently. Lust, weird, wrong lust burst in Barbara's head. Her hips began to buck, and her thighs quivered. She sagged down, pressing her enormous, increasingly soft breast into her enemy's grip. The hissing and bubbling grew stronger.

"More," moaned Barb's mouth. Her eyes were empty. Her crotch dripped almost as eager as her teats. The thick juices of her arousal seeped down in viscous drops along the insides of her thighs, and her mind was afloat in an ocean of freakish desires.

"What's that smell now?" Menena wrinkled her nose and leant sideways, looking along Barbara's flank. Her mouth spread into a mirthless grin. "Oh my, someone's a dripper, isn't she?" The shopkeeper's hands left Barbara's swollen, dangling pumpkins. She reached for a bundle of straw and cast it between Barbara's legs.

"Here, sit on it or at least try to squirt your lewd juices only there. Gods, it's running thick like molten candle wax, and those threads of slime — what sick creature are you? You're not supposed to have that much fun, and don't you think I'll help you drain that source, you slobbering twat."

Another whiff of Barbara's aroused sex brushed against Menena's nose. "Eww, watch that you don't get your fish oil into my delicious milk, cow." Menena grabbed Barbara's hair and guided her swaying breasts over the bucket again. "Here, and do try to squeeze your legs shut."

~

An hour later the bucket was full. Barbara's melons had lost just barely half of their size and were almost back to the volume she'd had when she entered the store. To Barbara it seemed years ago. She licked her dry lips. "Need to — to drink," she rasped. "Thirsty."

"Obviously," sneered Menena as she put the bucket away and grabbed something from a nearby shelf. "So you better get up, creep out the back door, run home and do that. Here, hang this blanket over your shoulder. Don't want to draw attention to you now, do you?" She dipped a finger into the white liquid in the bucket and licked the delicacy off. Her stern face brightened into a delighted smile while she rubbed her hands clean on her apron. "Mmmh. Rich and sweet. Just a single bucket, though. The way you wailed about bursting, I expected more of you, Barbara. And a lot less. Gods, this room smells like a fish butcher's now."




Siren Song Ch. 04.1



Siren Song, Part 4.1 — Beyond the Prize Cow





First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2012-09-02

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to CoffeePilot for his time and patience.

--

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) – from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too. 

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

Once upon a time ...

The year is 1185, the world is Altaerna, and the place is somewhere in the temperate climate where people are mostly pale and mostly stubborn.

A winter ago, a lithe and lissom young woman saved a handsome young fisherman from drowning. The fisherman's would-be fiance, headstrong cold-hearted not-so-young Menena, the town's mayor and wealthy shop owner, didn't take it lightly when her trusted maid Barbara and her well-equipped secret boy toy David fell for each other hard and fast despite being unable to join in carnal pleasures (on account of Barbara's nethers being a thimble and David being ... rather more than that).

Consumed by jealousy, Menena saw to it that David was banned from the town, with Menena maligning him whenever she could. Barbara was given the boot but still found a little lenience in Menena's eyes for the years of service, so the lithe blonde was allowed to spend market days in the side streets where she's now trying to sell for a living the fishes that David catches with his tiny boat and his worn nets. The outcast couple of twenty-somethings got secretly married and made it through their first year, living a life of privation in a tiny hut atop the cliffs, hours from the town.

~

Part 1:

Spring has returned. Going for a swim while waiting for her husband's return, Barbara hits upon a drifting net chock-full of fish while her other half David makes but a single lucky catch out at sea. Reunited, the young couple retreats into their favorite hideaway to have another go at their most pressing problem, their inability to consume their marriage properly. Still unable to succeed, they resort to each other's dexterity like the many times before.

As Barbara prepares lunch gutting the fish David brought, she discovers a valuable pendant in its belly. Putting it on, she — is woken by her husband, hours later. Not only has she developed quite the appetite for the unfamiliar fishes that the new net seems to attract, she also suddenly succeeds in devouring herculean meat (wink, wink). When David sets out to a bigger and more distant town in an effort to sell more of his catches, Barbara ends up doing a little self-exploration on a moonlit night. She also ends up with quite some more Barbara before the night is through. After a day spent in fear and despair, and lucky for her self-conscious mind, a) most of it has disappeared again by the time Dave returns, and b) David doesn't mind the surplus left on her at all.

As the next market day comes around, Barbara squeezes into her now ill-fitting old clothes and is about to go on a quest for answers about what has befallen her, and her first stop will be the town's healer and midwife. Alas, the market isn't over yet ...

~

Part 2:

Following Barbara's erroneously assuring visit to the town's midwife, Barbara and David indulge in Barbara's new voluptuousness and carnal hunger. As her ever-increasing desires begin to overwhelm David's abilities, he searches for a second opinion on the strange pendant and gets advice from a young, traveling, bad-tempered, dark-skinned dancing girl called Yrba who also happens to be witch. Meanwhile, back home alone, another outbreak of multiple expansion hits Barbara as her strange visions once again cross over into her reality. When she wakes the next morning, more than just her most eye-catching attributes have changed ...

~

Part 3:

After David relays his tale of the meeting with the witch, Barbara allows him to hide away the pendant. Barbara's worries about her husband's response to her increased voluptuousness prove to be unfounded. As they celebrate their reunion after the days of separation, some of the power fueling Barbara's transformation is passed on to her husband, enlarging his one already oversized attribute even further while shielding their minds from becoming suspicious.

With David away on his next trip to the city, Barbara attempts to better her standing with her former mistress — and it backfires in ways that the poor young woman never would've expected. Weak, drained and more chest-heavy than ever, she staggers home ...

~

Part 4: Beyond The Prize Cow

Obscure inspirational music reference: 

"So much larger than life / I'm gonna watch it growing" — Peter Gabriel, Big Time

~

Chapter 14: Home A-Grown

~

The sun neared the horizon. Barbara's shadow reached ahead of her as she staggered along the dusty pair of tracks in the scorching heat of the early evening. Tears fell from her ocean blue eyes and trickled down her narrow cheeks, leaving trails of salt in the layer of powdery earth on her face. Her slender hands clutched the rim of the tattered dirty blanket she kept wrapped around her head and chest. The rough cloth itched on her bare sweaty skin underneath, and each heavy step sent a shockwave of pain through the reddened, dangling, swollen pair of her breasts. Her dress was reduced to a torn and shredded skirt flaring over her wide hips and shapely buttocks, held up by a length of rope around her tapering waist. 

She had passed her cart, hidden in the brushes by the roadside, but had given only a glimpse of consideration to dragging it along before clutching the enormous, aching, sagging spheres on her ribcage again. She was glad to be just strong enough to remain upright; to add anything to the load she was now forced to bear was unthinkable.

The crouching shape of the hut made from old pieces of ship wreckage slowly rose over the high grass wavering in the constant wind that blew in from the sea. A few blond strands of Barbara's long straight hair had snuck out from under the hood and danced in the gusts. The air carried the salty smell of the ocean together with the sound of the waves rolling onto the sickle of the shore beneath the cliffs behind the small building.

The chimney didn't smoke, and the door was firmly locked. Any hope of her husband having returned early was crushed by that sight. Barbara's legs trembled despite their alluringly toned, firm and strong appearance. After Menena had milked almost a bucket full of milk and strength from Barbara's chest the blonde now had to force her feet from the ground just to stagger along the slight downward slope leading from the seldom traveled road to the poor premises she called home.

~

Barbara reached it with the last few rays of daylight. She stumbled against the wall by the door and sagged to her right knee, her one hand clinging to the doorframe of her hut. With the other hand she dragged the smelly blanket from her shoulders and cast it aside. The chill of evaporating sweat on her skin sent shivers down her spine. With her last strength she turned around and dropped onto her padded buttocks. Barbara rested her aching back against the wall and gazed down, afraid of what might've been concealed under the cloth that now lay wrinkled by her side.

Especially from up close, the sight was both beautiful and uncanny. She was beyond bountiful in her chest. Her distended skin shone brighter over the ample padding that filled the two watermelon-sized udders. The outer rim of the breathtaking volume began on her flanks just below her armpits and surged forward in an almost perfect circle only disturbed by the nipples peeking over what from Barbara's point of view seemed like a far horizon. If she put her shoulders just a bit forward the pair almost touched over her breastbone, but resting exhaustedly against the wall the enormous milk bags hung slightly to her sides and kept their distance from the center, where the skin over her sternum formed not a crevice but a smoothly curved valley. Barbara put her hands under the most plumped part of the two dangling pumpkins and lifted them with wide-spread fingers. Straining skin and pliable mass shaped itself against her palms.

Thank goodness they're no longer bloated with milk. That cursed weed! I swear, that's got to be at least another couple of inches I gained this afternoon. Oh my, and Sandy's gonna gossip to just about everyone that I was daft enough to eat udder weed, if she doesn't make me into an outright stealing bitch with her tall tales. Why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut?

The circumference of her massive mammaries' bases on her ribs ached. Barbara reluctantly touched the reddened, hot skin.

Oh no! I was so full that it's now all torn and stretched out! And — those are stretch marks up to my collarbones! Can't leave those boulders hanging, it'll only get worse. Oh the gods, soft as they feel, I fear they'll keep on sagging and stretching until they hang down to my knees unless I put them on some kind of support —

Barbara strained upright again, cradling her pair gently. A shiver ran through her body at the sensation of her own arms' warm embrace. As she moved her thighs, her other lips down below salivated with an audible shlurp.

Mmmh! and they're so sensitive, I'm dripping yet again. Gods, I've been leaking milk and juices all day by the gallons, I'm parched. Need water. Lots of it. Barbara eyed the bucket by the well and frowned. Strange. Why does it feel like I've done this before? And why do I feel like I'll regret drinking it?

~

Half a bucket later, she slowly calmed down. The water she had pulled up from the well was refreshingly cold and it had done nothing to her but quenched her raging thirst. Barbara stepped inside and raised her buttocks against the workbench by the window, cradling her feminine load with one arm while leaning back and resting the other on the workbench's top among the few scuffed earthen pots. And what am I going to do now? she mused. Her fingertips fidgeted with something sleek and cool that didn't belong there. Barbara frowned in surprise and turned to look down.

The pendant's chain lay wrapped around her fingers.

Come on, she almost heard it, come on, put me on. You'll feel so much better if you put me on. I'll help. I'll make you happy. Mmmh, look at you! Oh, you're coming along nicely. Come now, put me into that sweet, sweet cleavage, let me rest against your aching skin, let my tender chilly touch ease your pain. Put me on, and feel like the lithe princess again. Come now —!

Barbara grabbed the silvery disk with the sparkling blue stone. Her hand trembled as she raised it to her face. She could have sworn that just for the briefest moment the blue stones had winked at her. Yes, there's a good girl, whispered something in the back of her head.

She moved quickly and suddenly. Opening the cupboard, throwing the pendant inside, slamming shut the door and staggering away took less than three heartbeats, and yet Barbara panted and trembled as if she'd just wrestled a shark with nothing but her bare hands for a whole hour. Her lips quivered, and she held her gaze on the coarse wooden doors, half expecting them to burst open any second now with the pendant jumping out and wrapping its chain around her throat.

How did it end up in here? It was gone! Hidden! My goodness, it's haunting me, returning again and again. Dave was right. It's evil. I must get rid of it, but I won't touch it again. He must bury it far away, or sink it somewhere far out at sea. 

Drenched in cold sweat, Barbara slumped down on the chair by the kitchen table. One after the other she placed her aching pumpkins on the cool wood of the tabletop where the pliable flesh pancaked ever so slightly. Bent over the table, Barbara exhaled in relief. With her elbows on the table and her lower arms angled, her fingertips were just in reach of her nipples, and she caressed the reddened, engorged thimbles and the puffy areolas behind them.

Better. Phew! Oh the gods, they're sore to the core after what Menena squeezed from me. Need more time to recover. I can't have her coming over tomorrow to milk them again, they feel as if they'd split wide open if she grabs them just a bit too rough.

Barbara raised her hands and rubbed her forehead gently, trying hard not to cause any swinging or jiggling in the pair of jugs that spread out before her like two loafs of soft dough.

Can't afford to anger her either. I can't just be stubborn and refuse. How could I struggle with her anyway? She just needs to grab my breasts, and I'll fall to her feet, either in pain or begging to be milked again — or both.

I'll just have to beg and plead and hope there's still a bit of the Menena from better days in her. She's right, it's just a word from her, and it'll be pitchforks and the bonfire for me. 

Tears welled in Barbara's eyes. 

Gods, why me? I never wanted any of this! I just — why does fate do this to me? I never treated anyone wrong, I only ever wanted to get along and live a quiet life.

She hid her face in her hands. The tears came pouring out now. They fell from her palms onto the gently curved domes of her breasts and ran down into the dark crevice of her cleavage as she sobbed quietly.

Oh David, hurry home, I don't know what to do. I'm aching and worn and weak and I can't run and hide, not with these anchors tying me down.

~

Faint moonlight lit the kitchen when Barbara jerked awake again. She felt as if the town's blacksmith had been pounding away at her temples for hours, holding her whole head in a pair of tongs on his anvil. Her ears rung with a high-pitched noise that was more in her head than on the outside. She rose and regretted it the next moment. Exhaling as pain ignited deep in the now overstretched flesh on her ribs, she quickly lowered herself back down towards the table. The wood, warm from her breasts, took away the strain in her skin again.

Oh the gods, I slept on my own tits. I'm so big now, I'm my own pillows. Barbara sighed. Maybe they'll shrink again, now that the weed must've run its course? Should I have asked Sandy? Talked to Leta? Too late for that now, anyway. Can no longer show my face in the town. She laughed hollowly. The face, maybe. Those bags of milk? No way.

Felt like they'd tear off any moment. Must be gentle with them. Need to cradle them. But I can't walk around with my arms full all the time. Maybe a loop of cloth around them and tying it up behind my neck? Yes, that should do it. The linen from Dave's last trip to the city is still in the bedroom. Just need to get there without toppling over. 

She lifted her left breast with her right hand, suppressing the delights that her own firm grasp injected into the yielding, malleable bag. Placing the elongated mammary into her left arm's crook, she moved on and put her right breast into her left palm.

There. Wow, truly the size of watermelons and heavy like a pair of buckets. She wiggled her fingers against the warm load. Mmmh. Feels a lot better than a wooden bucket, though. A tired smile flashed across her face, and she flicked her left thumb against the nipple in its reach. Her eyes bugged and her knees gave way for the briefest moment. "Gods," she stammered. Oooh — oh my, if that's what a single touch does, then I'm going to soak myself wrapping up those plump berries of horniness. Can't help it. Her sad smile returned. 

~

Barbara sat on her haunches and knees, a steaming puddle of her sex's thick juices between her slightly spread legs. She struggled to force air into her lungs. The strip of linen she had tried to tie around her chest now lay over her trembling thighs, and she swayed in the afterglow of the last mind-blowing climax that had her skin covered in droplets of sweat.

"No way," she panted. "So delicate! Can't have the cloth rub against my nipples, not even for another moment, or I'll pass out."

Her sharp knife made short work of the coarse linen and left frayed edges. Not bothering with fancy needlework in the nightly gloom of her bedroom, Barbara finished the second circular cut and dropped the blade to the floor. Kneeling by the side of her bed, she laid out the long strip again and stooped over the makeshift wrapper. Her hands held her sore mammaries as she aimed the engorged nipples at the two holes. Barbara bit her lower lip, stifling a lecherous moan as the rough bed sheet made contact. Racing against time as her arousal grew irresistibly with every tremble and shiver that dragged the rough fabric across her nipples' coarse skin, she grabbed the ends of the strip of cloth, tied a firm knot behind her head and rose slowly, pulling at the durable wrapper and prodding her supple breasts until the linen and her flesh snuggled together cozily. The ripe strawberries that were her reddened, turgid nipples peeked freely through the palm-sized holes, and the only sensation they gave Barbara was a slight chill from the wet coating of leftover milk. Her piling arousal that had threatened to reduce her to an endlessly squirting, moaning, swaying lump of trembling woman flesh waned.

"Oh, finally. That's not so bad now," she exhaled relievedly. "Still need to move slowly, they're malleable enough to slip out if I make a wrong move. At least my hands are free again, and I can walk with no fear of stretching my burdens into a pair of empty sacks dangling beneath my navel."

Barbara raised her right arm and kneaded her stiff neck. She felt her skin straining across her collarbones and over her shoulders despite her make-do linen brassiere bearing the brunt of the weight. 

"Nnngh! Quite a load, even without any milk welling up. And what is it with my head? Now that the horniness is gone, why is it that this throbbing pain just won't go away? Maybe a little fresh air would do me good." She rose and walked towards the only door, holding her hands at the ready just inches beneath her spheres that jiggled gently with every careful step. Barbara felt their added off-center weight as an unwelcome extra strain in her lower back. Her gait became surer and steadier as she gained confidence in her makeshift bra.

Straightening herself against the door frame, Barbara slowly opened the front door. A shiver ran up her shanks as the night air crept in around her feet. The sensation leapt across her midriff and landed right in her nipples. The sensitive buds crinkled and hardened, and Barbara gnawed on her lower lip. She blinked, only to find that she saw double now. Some more blinking put her eyesight right again, but the pressure in her head did not go away. If it changed at all, it was only for the stronger. Barbara raised her eyebrows, wrinkled her forehead and stared into the distance.




Siren Song Ch. 04.1



The ocean was calm this night. Weak glimmers of glowing seas danced on the waves as they rolled ashore. What little surf there was, it didn't roar tonight but whispered. Barbara raised her right hand to rub across her brow. She didn't reach her intended target. Just as her hand moved at its quickest, it slammed into her right breast. Clutching her mistreated mammary, Barbara stooped from the sudden, unexpected pain. It faded quickly but left behind a tremble like an overstrained muscle deep in the flesh.

What is this? What is this new feeling? Barbara wondered. Little contractions spread now right under her skin. It didn't feel like the pressure of milk amassing inside her. It didn't even feel bad, just somewhat odd. She probingly ran her fingers along the fold where the underside of her breasts changed into her ribcage, and noticed another change. The narrow stretch had hurt just hours before, but now it was as healthy and firm as ever to her touch. Barbara's own fingertips caused a tickling sensation, and she couldn't stifle the little chuckle that sent a ripple through her chest's sensitive volume.

The sound of drums far off in the distance made Barbara rear her head and listen nervously. The more she strained her ears, the more the pounding became louder in her head until she recognized it for her own heartbeat.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Yeah, right. Drums out at sea but not a ship in sight. Can't be. I'm too tired and strung out. Can't trust my own senses."

Barbara rolled her shoulders and moaned. "Ugh! And why did I tie my chest up so tightly with this contraption? A firm fit is nice and all, but I should've left a little slack, it feels like my girls are trying to squeeze out through the nipple holes —"

Barbara's eyes bugged. "The hell—? I left a little slack! Where has it gone — oh no — oh please, no!"

The twitches deep in her breasts grew stronger, and they followed the beat of the drums in her ears. She cupped her heavy pair. Still no pressure of milk. Her flesh was bountiful yet supple in her hands. The only thing firm and tight around it was the linen. Barbara's fingers found the edge of the cloth. Her naked skin bulged over the rim. She knew she'd slung it only loosely around the upper parts of her orbs.

Boom went the beat in her head, and as it faded with a strange echo, Barbara felt the faint wave of stretching that ran through her breasts. The bulge around the cloth's rim grew bigger as the linen cut deeper into her tissue. She gasped for air.

Boom.

"They're not swelling with milk! They're really growing! But why — gods have mercy! They must be growing because Menena milked them! Because they were drained so much, they want to be ready for the next time!"

Boom.

The cradle of linen held the underside of Barbara's boobs firmly in place, offering only one escape to their swelling. As she craned her neck, she saw the faint tremble and noticed the slowly rising flesh that grew towards her chin.

Boom.

Barbara groaned, trembling in rapidly increasing arousal as her nipples slipped from their holes, got bent downwards as their bases rose and finally scraped over the edge of the wrapper to freedom, signaling that the upper halves of her milky mountains already had outgrown their prison of cloth. The rim of the linen dug into the circumference of her bodacious breasts. 

Boom.

She felt the beginning of a slowly sliding motion in her malleable mammaries. The pounds upon pounds of her udders constantly swelling bigger spilled over the cloth's rim and dragged along what little had remained inside the cradle. Moments later, Barbara's desperately grabbing hands overflowed with too much of herself, too much of deliciously malleable, yielding, sensitive, aroused self. The linen was but an empty shawl slung around her ribs beneath the straining areas where her breasts resided on her ribcage, its cloth trapped in the fold of sag that reached halfway around her torso now.

Boom.

Barbara had rested her back against the wall by the door post, but with every drumbeat she felt the pressure of leaning grow weaker. As the pear-shaped twins of sensuousness bulged relentlessly, their massive, off-center weight slowly made her cant forward. Barbara arched backwards, trying to cradle and balance the pair of prize pumpkins. She fought valiantly, maintaining her balance for as long as she could.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Barbara's heartbeat raced now, and her growth raced along with it. Sweaty and slippery, her breasts' skin rubbed against her arms as they stretched larger and swelled higher. 

"They're so big I can barely reach around them anymore!" groaned Barbara. "And — so heavy — can't hold them up any longer — if only David were here —"

~

"Heavens, Dave, help me!" she gargled, alone in the nightly darkness of the small hut. The constantly increasing weight of her ballooning breasts dragged her forward until the huge orbs flopped down onto the table. Barbara held her arms around the massive spheres crowned by thumb-sized nipples, trying to keep her new assets from stretching and pancaking too far. As she moved her legs, more sensations that had been fighting for her attention finally registered in her mind. 

On her other end, her widening hips struggled against her dress. Cloth spanned over bulging buttocks. Barbara groaned as her cheeks were compressed by the durable fabric, squeezing against her plumping labia and almost forcing the reddened flesh into her womb. Finally, just as the pressure and strain of the rough garment holding back her burgeoning rear seemed unbearable, Barbara heard the screeches of ripping cloth, and her new, rounder, curvier buttocks swelled out of the torn skirt. Its twin bulges separated. Reaching from the onset of her ass at her lower back, down between her legs, and right up to her pubes, the widening crevice turned into a chilly strait of skin covered with evaporating sweat. Without the pressure of her buttocks, the soaked plump hairy lips between her legs pouted and parted, letting her wrinkled inner labia spill out again. 

The quivers and cramps of growing and stretching slowed as the booming of Barbara's heartbeat subsided. The thunder in her head gave way to the ordinary noises of night from the outside. She stooped and sagged down on her taut, aching pumpkins, struggling for air, pinching her eyelids shut to hold back the tears of fear and desperation, her every nerve and fibre trembling.

Barbara opened her eyes wide and froze. The taste of salt filled her mouth.

~

Warmth spread over her arms, and it came from deep within her breasts. Their skin rippled faintly while they rose before Barbara's eyes like leavened dough, losing their flattened shape and rounding out due to the ever-increasing inner pressure. Ducts stretched and swelled with milk as her glands stockpiled pint upon pint of nurturing liquid into the enormous bags.

"No! No more! It's too much!" she sobbed. Barbara raised her head to the sky, tears streaming down over her cheeks. She struggled and pulled, but her strength was no match for the combined weight of milk and flesh. She was helplessly tied to the table now, her clothes in shambles, just barely held together by the rope around her waist. All she managed to do was to drag up the chair by the tips of her toes, so at least she didn't need to kneel in front of the swollen sacks of her own breasts that now stretched almost across the narrow side of the table, a yard long and half a yard high. As the noises of milk squeezing into the spongy tissue of Barbara's udders finally died down, the faint drip drip drip of liquid trickling from her pinkie-sized teats remained the only sound.

When Menena sees this, she'll milk me more. And then they'll grow even more! I need to get some of that out of me, need to —

Barbara put her fingers on the huge sacks of her breasts and tried squeezing some of the warm, fresh supply towards the nipples.

Not a second later, she held her hands well out of reach of her breasts with her arms stretched out sideways, shaking and trembling as agony crushed her guts. The tendons in her neck dragged down the corners of her mouth.

— Gods! My areola, as if they'd burst! The faintest motion — I'm all bloated inside — I can't squeeze it out, they're so ungodly huge, I can't even reach the right places, I'll just tear something if I keep pushing it.

She bit her lower lip.

I must be milked or I come apart! I must have this load drawn from me or I'll burst!

Her eyes bugged as realization hit her.

Oh no — I'm Menena's cow for good.

~

Chapter 15: Hands Of An Expert

~

"Hey, cow! You ready?" Menena's yell effortlessly made it through the walls of Barbara's hut. The young woman jerked awake. Late morning light crept through the gap between the door and its frame. The hoofbeats of Menena's horse slowed down, and soon Barbara heard her rummaging about at the well, and the creaking of the pulley.

"Oh please, hurry up and milk me," moaned Barbara, tied to the immovable weight of her sack-sized, overfilled breasts that rested on the groaning kitchen table.

"And how!" answered the shopkeeper from the outside. "Oh, I really hope you've got some more of your sweet, sweet milk, because that meager bucket you squirted yesterday barely lasted me until midnight! Mmmh, and I slept like a baby afterwards, no sickness, not even a wrong burp. Oh yes, you're my prize cow!"

Menena kicked open the door, carrying two buckets of water in her hands and two pairs of empty leather bags roped together over her shoulders. She froze in the frame. Before her eyes, Barbara lay halfway over the kitchen table, her slender, naked torso resting halfway inside the valley between two taut pillows that shone like the finest silk. The shopkeeper's eyes traced their curve. Menena hesitated and blinked in disbelief for a moment when she recognized the palm-sized darker patches for the areolae and therefore the pair of huge pillows for Barbara's breasts.

"Might need bigger bags," Menena gulped, but moments later, she was as lofty as they come. "Here," she groaned as she lifted the water buckets on the tabletop. "Don't want my precious cow to die of thirst. This'll help you fill up again later. Now let's see what's on the table."

Menena smiled and smacked her lips with relish, and her green eyes sparkled with greed. "Gee, I can hardly believe how huge you are now! There must be gallons waiting for me. I'll never again drink or eat anything but your delicious milk. Oh, just you wait, my sweet pair of udders; I have a special treat for you today." She took a small flask from her belt and pulled out the plug.

"What are you giving me those frightened looks for, eh? Oh, you'll like it! This mixture of soothing weeds and fat, it's marvelous for straining skin," grinned Menena. "Y'know, only the best for my prize cow. I wouldn't treat you with anything less than what I use myself." She pulled down the rim of her tight bodice and let her own pair hang out. Menena's chest was a glorious sight to behold. As she leaned forward, her mammaries no longer rested against her ribcage but swung freely. They had their biggest diameter just off her body, and the huge pale pears ended in big nipples on domed dark areola.

She cupped one orb and lifted it gently. The malleable volume bulged over her widespread fingers. "See? Firm yet soft, and neither stretch mark nor wrinkle on the skin. Takes half an hour each day, rubbing the ointment into them, but it's so very worth it. And if you behave, next time I might even feed you, not just water you."

Menena turned the flask upside down, and slowly a ropey liquid pooled in her palm. Rubbing her hands, she spread a copious helping of the ointment until her fingers glistening with slippery wetness. Then she leaned over the table and used the rest of the thick fluid oozing out to draw a long spiral on Barbara's vast expanse of breasts.

"Ooh, doesn't it look as if your Davey-darling blew his load all over you? Let me rub it in now —"

The raven's greasy fingertips traced huge circles on the barely yielding mountains of flesh on the table. As soon as the thick string of lube was spread far enough, she switched to using all of her hands, running them along the sides and across Barbara's painfully hard and crinkled nipples. Time and again, Menena placed her glistening hands flat against Barbara's collarbones and, pressing down harder, drew them towards the domed areola that rewarded her ministrations with a visible swelling that slowly receded as soon as the shopkeeper lifted her hands to begin the next stroke.

"So — much milk — squeezing — my nipples!" moaned Barbara, her hands clutched around the side edges of the table. Her breasts' glistening skin was flushed and warm all over, and she felt how the taut container relaxed with the oil slowly being taken in. There was none of the pain that her own desperate attempt had yielded. Menena's experienced fingers promised a long-lasting, thorough relief.

"I sure hope so," Menena smiled greedily. "And doesn't it feel nice, being rubbed by gentle, slippery hands, eh?"

"Oh the gods, yes!" exclaimed Barbara, only to almost choke on her own words.

"Uh—huh? So after years and years of honing my skills on myself it all comes down to making the homewrecker feel nice?" She slapped the quivering expanse of rosy skin, only to soothe the reddening spot with slowly circling strokes. "No, no, no. Oh, I almost forgot. Hush, my darlings. Momma's not going to hurt you. You're my heifer now. No need to feel ashamed, you know? Only the best for you, because a happy cow is a generous cow. And it's high time for you to be generous now, generous by the gallons. Let's start with that one here —"

She focused on Barbara's left breast, working her one flat hand into the foot-deep cleavage and trapping the barely malleable bag between her splayed fingers. "My goodness, it's so massive, it's like trying to wrestle a fattened sow!" gasped Menena. She squeezed from both sides and felt liquid moving under her palms as she dragged her hands slowly towards the reddened nipple. "And would you look at that, a goat's teat on a cow's udder, who would've thought," winked Menena. Her fingers closed around the elongated, rough protrusion and moved in little jerking motions.

"Hm, quite impressive, the way your nipples are swelling now. You're close to overflowing, aren't you? Here, let me put the bag in place, I don't want to have my clothes sprayed with your milk." Menena slipped one hand under the warm mountain, kneading the taut skin. Her other hand grabbed the first of the pair of leather bags and held the funnel-like opening over the engorged teat. "There now, just let go," she smiled and moved her fingers in milking waves against the deep texture of glands and overfilled ducts she felt in her grip.

~

"What's the matter, cow? Not giving milk today?" Menena kneaded the warm flesh impatiently. "After all that tender care? That won't do! I can feel it sloshing about in your sacks, so let down! Really, who told you you'd have a say in those matters? If you're so stubborn, I still do have a bundle of Milkmaid's Friend that I can stuff down your gullet, y'know?"

"Eek!" Barbara squeaked. "I'm — all clogged, gods! Don't squeeze so hard! It's just not coming, it's not my fault, I need to — must — help me..."

"Uh-huh? Let's see now."

Menena knelt down before the obstinate nipple. Her hands reached beneath the pliable orb and lifted its front to her face. Her lips pouted, she opened her mouth, her warm breath crept over Barbara's skin. Menena's pink tongue flicked against the rough cylinder that had reached the size of her own forefinger.

"Mene— gods, that's sick!" gasped the helpless, swollen blonde.

"Mmmh?" mumbled the shopkeeper. Her tongue wetted the circle of her lips before she sucked up Barbara's bloated areola. She chewed ever so slightly, just pressing her lips together. Trembling and faint twitching spread from the saliva-coated dome out into Barbara's excessive flesh.

"Oh yes," moaned the young woman as her teats finally opened up in Menena's deft grip, the milk spraying out painting the inside of the suckling mouth with white deliciousness.

"Og myeff," gargled Barbara's fiendish milkmaid, pulling and squeezing stronger as the fat nipples hardened and swelled more. She drew a couple of huge gulps, then she pinched the aroused flesh playfully at its root and pulled the glistening nipple from her pouted lips. Barbara winced, and Menena smiled contentedly. She poked a finger into the yielding sphere before her and laughed. "You're turning into a real cow, you know? Just like you deserve it. See, your milk doesn't spray all over the place any more, now it comes out through one fat hole in your enormous teats. And they're just the right shape and size for my hands." 

~

"Hhuuhhh — huuuuhhh — hhhuunnhh."

Psssshhh — pssshhh — pssshhh.

Barbara's breathing came in time with the hissing of milk into the funnel. Every now and then, Menena's hands left the spewing teat-nipple and stroked the vast expanse to squeeze more of the sticky-sweet produce from the soaked flesh into the doming areola. Her fingers kept on draining squirt after copious squirt from the overflowing udder, and the leather bag she aimed the thick spurts into bloated steadily while Menena's grin widened.

Menena sighed happily and paused. She laid her head onto the softening pillow of Barbara's right breast.

"Mmmmh, such a nice rest. So warm and big and fluffy." She forced her hands under the flattened orb and cuddled the pliable breast with both arms. "Y'know, once Dave's back with me, maybe I'll let you live in my bedroom. You could be the nicest pair of pillows for us, breakfast included. Much better than becoming bonfire steak, don't you agree? And if they grow some more, you'd make a very comfortable bed. Yes, maybe I'll order a whole bag of Milkmaid's Friend the next time a trader comes by. Something for you to chew on. Would you like that? Wouldn't you love for your breasts to swell huge for me, cow? Just imagine, me splayed under my David, his giant cock pounding away into me, the two of us right on top of your silky-soft, bed-sized, milk-engorged breasts."

"W—whatever you say," groaned Barbara. "More — draw out more of my milk! Drain me! Oh the gods, I'm still so full —"

"Yes, I can feel it. I can hear it, I can hear your breast bubbling and groaning, filling up again," laughed Menena. She squeezed the sack of glands with both arms. Barbara squeaked in surprise. Her nipple twitched skywards as it bulged with dammed-up milk.

"My goodness, still stretching and swelling?" smirked Menena as she pinched the teat at its root. She slipped the reddened cylinder the size of a below-average dick in between her pouted lips and took away just enough of her fingers' pressure to let a thick spurt of milk fill her cheeks with the freshest, tastiest serving she'd ever swallowed. She pulled the glistening flesh tube out with a shplop and gulped down the ample mouthful, smacking her lips afterwards.

"Oh yes, you'll be such a nice addition to my furniture. There's just no competition any more, or do you really think your lovey-dovey Davey-darling will pick a pair of udders over a woman he can still be seen with in daylight?" She laughed wickedly, even louder when she saw the pain and tears in Barbara's eyes. Her hands closed around Barbara's nipples and continued their milking.




Siren Song Ch. 04.1



"My, look at that!" she added. "Seems an unhappy cow gives milk just as easily as a happy one."

~

"Saaay..."

The warm, relieving fingers let go of Barbara's teats again.

"No, don't stop! Don't stop! Need to — to spend," moaned Menena's helpless slave with closed eyes. Long threads of liquid fell from her wooden chair's edge, and her crotch and buttocks swam in the slippery juices of her engorged vulva as her glowing innards slowly burped up gob upon gob of her own warm, salty lube.

Jingle. And suddenly Barbara's eyes were wide open again. Menena stood at the small askew cupboard, and something sparkled in the palm of her hand.

"I knew I saw a twinkle in there. So what have we got here? You don't deserve such trinkets, cow," snarled Menena as she let the silver chain of the pendant run through her fingers. "Cows don't need jewelry, right?" She opened the clasp and raised the ends of the chain to her neck. "Keeping such riches hidden would've sent you to jail. Hah! Just another thing to keep you in line, eh, peasant? Don't you worry, nobody's going to find it in your hut, because that locket is mine now."

"Menena, don't," squealed the blonde, squirming helplessly on the table. Her breasts were too full to move, still too full even after almost a bucket's worth of rich, warm milk had been drained from them. Barbara tried to rise and pushed her hands against the tabletop, but the strain and pain in her enormous breasts' delicate skin was too much to bear. She flopped down on her swollen orbs again.

"Menena, don't put it on! It'll turn you into a cow, too! It'll make you swell like me!" she wailed.

Barbara's hands covered her mouth as if to hold back her words, but far too late. Menena hesitated, and finally she lowered the bewitched pendant.

"Makes you swell," the raven pondered and scratched her chin. Slowly, she turned to face Barbara. Her smile dripped with evil as she gloated down on the helpless girl.

"So that's the big secret. Tell me, cow, if it makes your delicious milk bags swell, then why aren't you wearing it right now?" she snarled all of a sudden. The pendant jingled to the floor, and before Barbara could react Menena stood behind her. The shopkeeper's strong hands pulled Barbara's wrists behind her back and tied them up.

"Menena," whimpered the helpless young woman, her voice muffled as she was forced to stoop with her face pressed into her own cleavage, "please, don't do th—"

Menena's fingers circled Barbara's neck. The clasp clicked shut. The cold metal came to a rest just over the dark chasm between Barbara's breasts, and then Menena grabbed it and pushed it deep into the abyss of flesh. Immediately, warmth spread out through the huge masses, and an anxious gasp escaped Barb's lips. 

"My, look at the time, it's past noon already. Sure flies if you're having fun, doesn't it? See you tomorrow." Menena laughed as she grabbed the taut leather bottles, threw the rope between them over her shoulders and danced through the doorframe. Her fingers wandered from one bulging bottle to the next. 

"One for the road, two for the afternoon, one for the night. My, there's no way I could even begin to stock up with this meager harvest. Well, if your locket is as good as you seem to fear, then I'll better bring eight bottles and plenty of time tomorrow, cow!"

~

Barbara struggled desperately, but she couldn't even get to her feet. Despite their toned and sturdy appearance, her legs felt weak and scrawny compared to the mammoth expanse of flesh in front of her, and her tied-back arms ached and kept her from getting any kind of leverage at all, punishing every wrong move with a dagger of pain into her shoulder blades. The pendant's unearthly heat encompassed all of her upper body now. Tiny drops of sweat formed on her skin. Whatever it was that it would do to her this time, it began now, unstoppable like the incoming tide.

Quivering started in Barbara's breasts. Thirst made her mouth dry. Crying and unable to fight, she struggled along the table. Barbara dunked her head into the first bucket and guzzled down the gallons. It cooled the burning in her belly, but all the while, she felt how barely a tenth of what she swallowed really made it to her stomach. Most of it seemed to vaporize on its way down her throat only to materialize as a chilly wave of new volume spreading from behind her breastbone and stretching her bags even more. The pendant stuck like a glowing ember between her swelling globes, its power radiating into the helpless young woman's body while the afternoon slowly changed into night.

~

Chapter 16: Showdown By Morning Light

~

The buckets were empty and lay toppled on the floor. Barbara's head lolled on the yielding, swaying expanse of swollen flesh. The pain in her bent shoulders had subsided to a numb ache, and the pendant's heat spreading through her body was now a bearable, even pleasant, warmth.

Barbara hadn't moved at all through the night, trapped in a state that was less sleep than unconsciousness brought about by exhaustion, until finally the light of morning tickled her nose. She stirred awake and couldn't remember how she'd managed to doze off. Moaning, she licked her lips to clean a little of her involuntary drool from her cleavage and cast a few glances around.

"Grown bigger again. And it's morning already. Dave's going to come back soon. He'll free me."

Her back-tied hands, tickling with pent-up blood from the taut rope around her wrists, touched her buttocks. Her new, firmer, tauter, bigger buttocks. They, too, had gained a good extra chunk of fleshiness. Her fingertips traced the round bulges. There was little else she could do with her incapacitated hands. First by accident, but soon by intent, her middle finger slid up and down the crevice of her butt, still lubed with the copious glazing of her pussy's bitter honey —

"Mmmh. Round and taut — just need to angle my hand a bit more, and I can slip my fingers deep into —"

Barbara frowned.

No! Need to keep my mind together! Can't finger myself! Can't wait for Dave! Can't wait another moment! Must — get — pendant — off, sparked through her mind. She clenched her teeth and twisted her wrists.

"The rope — it's not as tight as before!"

Barbara tensed her shoulders, her arms. Her tired and over-stretched muscles trembled.

"Gnnnnaahhh! Gods, once, just once —"

Something behind her back creaked, and Barb prayed it was the rope and not her wrists. Tendons showed in the crook of her arms, and her biceps bulged. Strands of hemp snapped apart.

"RaaaaAAAAHHH!" echoed her angry holler out across the sea.

Snap.

Her arms liberated, Barbara sagged forward.

~

"Next. Standing up." Barbara looked at the two elongated spheres of milk and flesh projecting from her chest, each the size and weight of her own torso. "Any which way I can," she sighed.

Grunting and groaning, she arched her back and shuffled her feet beneath the table under her new center of weight. Her thighs trembled, and her knees felt as if they'd burst any moment, but the pull on her ribs finally reached an equilibrium with the drag of weight trapped in her breasts. She sensed the retreating touch of the table on the underside of her boobs until the humongous pair of milk-swollen ovoids finally swung free, supported only by the trembling twig that was Barbara's body. 

"I'm standing! I'm standing on my own feet! I can move again!"

Cradling barely a third of the bags on her chest, Barbara took a step backwards and learned in a moment of wide-eyed fright that her balance was way off. She needed two fast, short, clumsy steps until she managed to hold back the monstrous momentum of her overfilled chest. The chair behind her struck into the back of her knees and toppled. The pull on her spine was immense. Barbara's muscles tired rapidly. All the while she felt her glands' slow throbbing as they produced droplet after droplet of milk and stowed it in her ever-stretching ducts.

"The pendant! Need — to get it off! It's filling me still!"

She leaned and shifted desperately, freeing her right arm to reach over her head and grapple for the pendant's thin chain running across the back of her neck.

"Come on, come on, come on!" 

The chain got caught in her hair and ripped out a few strands as she pulled it frantically over her head. Her fingers closed around the disc that still held the warmth from her deep cleavage. She only hesitated for a moment, then cast it away to the far end of the kitchen. It clanged against the loam wall and jingled to the floor. Barbara exhaled in relief. A shiver ran across her skin.

Another shiver. That one started in her legs. Her knees grew wobbly.

"What now — Gods!"

The weight on her chest multiplied. Barbara corralled as much of her swollen flesh as she could. Her skin didn't stretch, the massive orbs didn't increase their breathtaking bulk.

There was only one explanation.

"— I'm not growing bigger — I'm growing weaker! No! NOOOO!"

Tendons on her neck showed as she struggled with gnashed teeth against the merciless pull of gravity on the pair of milk barrels jutting from her ribs. The kitchen spun forward, her inflated nipples connected painfully with the tabletop, then the rest of her mams came crashing down in an avalanche of malleable flesh on the wooden piece of furniture that no longer had any resistance to offer against their weighty assault. The tabletop cracked right through the middle. Barbara in tow, the pair of heavy bags sloshed on down to the floor.

Barbara was thrown about on her own breasts like a tiny ship on the enraged ocean. She undulated up and down almost a dozen times until all of the momentum was finally consumed. Face down on the pillows of her own body, she dug her fingers into her hair and wailed, "Gods, what have I done? What have I done?!"

The pendant glittered in the twilight of the far corner, way out of reach of Barbara's desperately grabbing fingers.

~

Barely half an hour had passed when Dave's voice silenced the morning birds' calling in the bushes outside. 

"Barbara? Barbara, wake up! I sailed the night through, just to get back to you! Oh, it's just incredible, they're paying thrice now for fresh fish! We don't need Menena's goodwill anymore! We'll wear the finest clothes!"

He opened the door and froze. A pair of white sacks, stuffed and taut and immovably huge, rested on the flattened planks of the destroyed kitchen table, and on top of that pair half-lay, half-knelt his beloved wife, face down; her well-defined tapering back widening into alluring hips and meaty, luscious buttocks, and they quivered as her narrow shoulders shook to her desperate sobbing. White rivulets emerged from under the bulging orbs, and the room smelled of fresh, sweet milk.

"Barbara?" David was down on his knees in a heartbeat and caressed her cheeks as he gently lifted her head. "Oh Barbara, what happened?"

"Menena," wailed Barbara. "It was — Menena, she did this to me. G—gave me cow weed. Milked me so hard, it made me grow again. Stuffed the pendant between my tits. Made me drink so much. Unnngh! I'm so full, Dave, m—milk, Dave, so much milk in me! Too — much! Gods, Dave, milk me! Milk me, or I'll burst for sure! Dave!"

~

He worked his hands into the warm cave underneath Barbara's one breast, pulling and prodding the overfilled flesh gently, until he managed to reach the tightly sealed bubble of milk that had formed under the soft mountain around Barbara's leaking nipple. His fingers felt around in the warm darkness while the pressurized liquid whizzed out around his arms.

"These here?" he asked incredulously. The skin he touched was rough and firm, surely fit for a nipple if he ever felt one, but the sheer size of it! His hand closed around something that was two thumbs wide but almost four inches long. He squeezed it with gentle milking motions, and a thick stream of hot, fresh milk washed out of the single gaping hole at each tip.

"Oh yes, oh dear gods, yes," moaned his wife as the unbearable pressure was finally vented.

David knelt on elbows and knees in front of his wife, his lower arms buried under the warm orbs of Barbara's breasts. His hands clutched her huge nipples, and his fingers pulled and squeezed in long milking strokes. Veils of milk broke forth from underneath the slowly shrinking mammaries and washed all over the floor. The pale white brook ran out through the door and worked its way along the side of the footpath towards the cliff.

Their faces were mere inches apart. Barbara panted in relief, her eyelids half closed, her soft lips pouting. As her breasts' promontory deflated gradually, she sagged forward some more. David's forehead touched hers, and moments later, their lips met.

"Gods, David — mmmh — what are we — mmmwah — going to do?" she stammered between their hungry kisses.

"Don't — mwah — don't know — uuunh! — Mmwah — Barb," he replied, merely following her eager smooching.

Barbara leaned heavier on her own breasts and grabbed David's head. Her nipples erupted more violently as she grew wetter between her legs.

"Milk me — you're the one — my milkman, my only — your hands, only your hands — aaaahhh!" She bucked and pulled him forward. David lost his balance and fell on top of the warm pillows of Barbara's breasts. His hands never left her nipples that had hardened even more.

"Barbara, we can't — not right now!" he protested faintly as she dragged him closer and fondled blindly for his belt.

"Can't think straight when I need to be bred!" she replied, panting in heat. "Gimme your spear, gimme all of it! Think later! Must — have it now!" Her fingers found the thick rod, already half hard, and pulled it out. "The gods, it's so big! I want to feel it — there!"

With one hand on the root of David's reptile and the other right behind the glans that threatened to spread her grip apart as it swelled she aimed the long trunk at the sweat-lubed cleft of her breasts. Her quivering mams enclosed David's throbbing erection with a soft and yielding sheath, and Barbara squeezed them together with her arms.

"Gods, Barbara —!" groaned David, rearing up and letting go of her nipples as she reached for his hips and moved him back and forth in the black abyss of slippery warmth. Barbara smiled, sensing every bulging vein in his manhood as it rubbed against the sensitive skin of her cleavage. Her breasts shook and trembled as she guided his accelerating humping.

"Bar — ba — raaah!" he exclaimed. The thick head pulsed right against her breastbone and the upward curve of David's erection put the gaping hole in his glans just beneath the funnel shape of Barbara's bosom. His thick spurts flooded the tight gap in an instant, rising up and filling Barbara's cleavage from the bottom up like white lava rising inside a deep valley. David thrust and shook in the entrapment of her breasts, spending his seed in amounts far beyond what he'd thought possible. Barbara's cleavage finally overflowed with his thick sticky juices. They oozed hot and clingy over the crater lake between her breasts and ran down along his legs until they finally mingled with the river of milk on the floor, and still David wasn't done. The touch of Barbara's breasts kept his rod hard and him squirming and squirting. It wasn't until minutes later that his spurts became smaller and the sperm much thinner.

~

David freed himself from the entrapment of his wife's vampiric cleavage and sagged back onto his haunches.

"Oh the gods, Barbara, you must've drawn years of my seed from me," he panted, wiping sweat from his face. "Look at you! Your breasts, they're glazed."

Barbara eyed him lovingly while she rubbed the copious ointment of her husband's loins into the skin of her breasts. "Oh my love, you don't look drained at all! Goodness, you're a pillar of health! Mmmh. And I'm quite a bit calmer now."

David's breath calmed down, too. He frowned as he raised his right hand and turned it before his eyes. "You're right. Not a tremble now, could've sworn I was shaking from exhaustion just moments ago." He gulped. "This is all so wrong —"

~

"You're telling me! I'm so big, I can't even move anymore!" Barbara slapped and pulled at the pair of yard-long sacks growing out of her chest. "There's so much I need to tell you, so many things happened. Firstly though, David, look over there, you must hand me the pendant, it's the only way —"

He looked over his shoulder at the faint blue light that illuminated the far corner of the room, and shook his head.

"Barbara, are you sick in the head? Look at you! Look at what it's done to you!" He struggled over on hands and knees and warily picked up the silver disk by the farthest end of its chain. "I should've cast it into the deepest depths, that cursed thing!"

"No, Dave!" Barbara groped desperately towards the sparkling silver. "Give it back to me, I need its power! The gods, David! Menena, she's about to — we must — David, give me the pendant!"

"I will not, Barb!" He shook his head and lowered the palm-sized plate with the huge blue stone onto a piece of cloth, wrapping it up carefully. "For your sake, I'll make sure this thing won't bother us ever again!"

"David, are you deaf? I need it! It's giving me strength! We don't have time to argue about this, it's morning already! If I put it on, I'll be able to get up and walk again, I know it!"

"Uh—huh?" He clambered to his feet and stood akimbo. "All of a sudden, you know those things? That's all I needed to hear!" His forefinger shot towards her. "You're not my Barbara, you're this cursed thing talking out of her mouth! You won't keep your claws in my wife, thing! D'you hear me? If it takes the rest of my days, I won't have my love suffer under your evil whisperings and machinations!" He stormed outside.

"No, David! You don't understand!" she screamed after him. "Oh please, David! If we don't run right now, Menena's going to —"

~

When David returned minutes later, his hands were empty.

"Heavens, David!" screeched Barbara. "What have you done? We don't have time! Give me back the pendant!"

He sat down by her side and held her frantically fidgeting hands by her wrists. "Shhh, love. It's gone. Calm down, its evil won't whisper to you anymore. Just let it go. Barbara, please come back to me."

Barbara's heavy and agitated breathing became shallower until she exhaled deeply and raised her head to her husband's worried face. She gulped and gently freed herself from his grasp, dragging her gigantic bosom a bit more upright as she tried to lean back onto her haunches. Barbara bashfully wiped a few tears from her cheeks.

"I'm good again, David. Don't worry. It's just — these last two days, it's all — it's all just a bit much —"

Her whisper turned into a hysterical giggle. "Heh — a bit — gnnnhhii — a — bit — much —" Barbara's hands pulled at her own immensely distended chest. "Much! — Haaah! Hiiih—"

"What is it now?" he asked as Barbara suddenly fell silent, canted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"I hear someone on horseback," she gasped. Her eyes widened in fear. "Oh the gods! It's too late! Menena! She's coming!"

~

The dulled thumping of hoofbeats on high grass grew louder and slowed down until it stopped, right in front of the hut.

"Cow? Did I leave the door open, cow?" came Menena's voice from the outside. "Or is it my long lost —"

Her voice changed into a giddy girl's squeaking as she screamed, "David!"




Siren Song Ch. 05



Part 5 — The Final Night

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2012-09-06

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to CoffeePilot for his time and patience.

The numbering, I suck at it. Yes, I remember that this is technically supposed to be Part 4.2, because the previous part was called 4.1, and they once were just one item called "part 4".

I'm not quite sure why I thought that 4.1/4.2 thing would be a good idea. Anyway, enjoy the tale, no matter how it's labelled.

--

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

Once upon a time ...

The year is 1185, the world is Altaerna, and the place is somewhere in the temperate climate where people are mostly pale and mostly stubborn.

A winter ago, a lithe and lissom young woman saved a handsome young fisherman from drowning. The fisherman's would-be fiance, headstrong cold-hearted not-so-young Menena, the town's mayor and wealthy shop owner, didn't take it lightly when her trusted maid Barbara and her well-equipped secret boy toy David fell for each other hard and fast despite being unable to join in carnal pleasures (on account of Barbara's nethers being a thimble and David being ... rather more than that).

Consumed by jealousy, Menena saw to it that David was banned from the town, with Menena maligning him whenever she could. Barbara was given the boot but still found a little lenience in Menena's eyes for the years of service, so the lithe blonde was allowed to spend market days in the side streets where she's now trying to sell for a living the fishes that David catches with his tiny boat and his worn nets. The outcast couple of twenty-somethings got secretly married and made it through their first year, living a life of privation in a tiny hut atop the cliffs, hours from the town.

~

Part 1:

Spring has returned. Going for a swim while waiting for her husband's return, Barbara hits upon a drifting net chock-full of fish while her other half David makes but a single lucky catch out at sea. Reunited, the young couple retreats into their favorite hideaway to have another go at their most pressing problem, their inability to consume their marriage properly. Still unable to succeed, they resort to each other's dexterity like the many times before.

As Barbara prepares lunch gutting the fish David brought, she discovers a valuable pendant in its belly. Putting it on, she — is woken by her husband, hours later. Not only has she developed quite the appetite for the unfamiliar fishes that the new net seems to attract, she also suddenly succeeds in devouring herculean meat (wink, wink). When David sets out to a bigger and more distant town in an effort to sell more of his catches, Barbara ends up doing a little self-exploration on a moonlit night. She also ends up with quite some more Barbara before the night is through. After a day spent in fear and despair, and lucky for her self-conscious mind, a) most of it has disappeared again by the time Dave returns, and b) David doesn't mind the surplus left on her at all.

As the next market day comes around, Barbara squeezes into her now ill-fitting old clothes and is about to go on a quest for answers about what has befallen her, and her first stop will be the town's healer and midwife. Alas, the market isn't over yet ...

~

Part 2:

Following Barbara's erroneously assuring visit to the town's midwife, Barbara and David indulge in Barbara's new voluptuousness and carnal hunger. As her ever-increasing desires begin to overwhelm David's abilities, he searches for a second opinion on the strange pendant and gets advice from a young, traveling, bad-tempered, dark-skinned dancing girl called Yrba who also happens to be witch. Meanwhile, back home alone, another outbreak of multiple expansion hits Barbara as her strange visions once again cross over into her reality. When she wakes the next morning, more than just her most eye-catching attributes have changed ...

~

Part 3:

After David relays his tale of the meeting with the witch, Barbara allows him to hide away the pendant. Barbara's worries about her husband's response to her increased voluptuousness prove to be unfounded. As they celebrate their reunion after the days of separation, some of the power fueling Barbara's transformation is passed on to her husband, enlarging his one already oversized attribute even further while shielding their minds from becoming suspicious.

With David away on his next trip to the city, Barbara attempts to better her standing with her former mistress — and it backfires in ways that the poor young woman never would've expected. Weak, drained and more chest-heavy than ever, she staggers home ...

~

Part 4 (aka 4.1):

Much to her horror, Barbara's body draws its own conclusion after her mammaries have been relieved of a bucketful of milk at her former mistress' hands, and it decides that a pair of massively swollen breasts capable of lactation by the gallon is the way to go. As Menena arrives the next morning, Barbara is helplessly chained to the kitchen table by her two humungous orbs brimming with milk. Menena discovers the enchanted pendant and decides on a whim that her favorite milk source isn't big enough yet. She ties up Barbara and leaves the helpless young woman exposed to an even bigger dose of the trinket's otherworldly powers.

David returns the next morning only to run into Menena. Tempers fly as the bossy woman realizes that her former boy toy will stay true to his wife no matter what ...

~

Part 5: The Final Night

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"Never saw anybody think she's so right and be so wrong" — Daryl Hall, Dreamtime

~

Chapter 17: Dashed Hopes

~

The twitter of morning birds outside the poor hut returned, filling the desolate silence inside after Menena's haughty departure. Barbara covered her face with her hands and sobbed quietly. Her shaking shoulders sent ripples across the white promontory of her gargantuan, immobilizing, magic-infested mammaries. David leaned with his back against the wall, fists clenched in desperate rage. He slowly slid down, groaning in anger and banging the back of his head against the wood and loam again and again.

~

Barbara propped herself up on the yard-long, stuffed pillows of her breasts. She moaned faintly as her elbows dug into the flesh and sent a wave of arousal through the sensitive mass.

"Oh the gods, David, what are we going to do? She'll turn us both into her slaves! She'll lock me up and make me into a bed, and she'll chain you to it and turn you into her stallion, and you'll have to breed her on top of me every night! She's become sick in the head like that!"

He jumped to his feet. "Barbara, we'll use the boat! We'll —"

Barbara spread her arms, her gesture encompassing the breathtaking cause of their predicament. "David! Think about it. I'm heavy like, what, maybe three or four people now. We'd capsize before we're across the reef. I'd sink like a stone, and I'd drag you down as well."

He sagged down to his haunches, hanging his head.

"There must be some way to escape! Some way to undo all this, some spell —"

David hesitated, then turned to his wife. "Listen, dear, I'll — I'll try to find that witch again, maybe if I beg her nicely, she'll be willing to — to take another look or something, because if this isn't magic or a curse or a hex, then what is? And once she's freed you from it, we'll go somewhere far away where Menena can't find us. She can have the pendant for all I care."

Fear carved trenches into Barbara's forehead.

"You can't leave me alone, not like this, David!" she gasped. "It took you two days just to get there, the last time! We don't have that time, and if you're not around tomorrow morning, I — I dare not think what she'll do to me! The gods, she'll milk me to the last drop and then I'll grow even more! I'll swell the house apart! And she'll be watching and cackling as I flatten our home with my — my —" She ran her flat hands across her thin-stretched, sweat and seed covered skin. Tears itched in the corners of her eyes.

"I won't leave you, Barbara," David replied, gently closing his big hand around her slender fingers. "We'll run from her together. Roughwater village and the witch's wood is not that far away. We'll pad out the cart all nice and cozy, make a nest for your chest, and before you know it, this madness will be over."

"The cart!" Barbara slapped her hands on her mouth. "Oh my goodness, I hid it in the grove just outside the village! You mustn't go near there!"

"Don't you worry, dear. I'll pick it up and they'll never even see me doing it."

Barbara's breath came faster and deeper as she pondered her husband's words. She finally raised her head as she felt the rekindling flames of hope. Her mouth curved into a smile.

"Yes! David, this might just work!" Barbara stroked her breasts probingly. The flesh and skin was soft under her fingers, yielding to her fingertips' pressure with tingles of delight instead of stings of overfilling. "I'm good for at least a few hours before I must be milked again, I reckon. Still, you better hurry!"

He jumped to his feet and opened the door into the bedroom. Barbara craned her neck and watched with an incredulous expression.

"David! What are you up to? The cart's not in there."

His shadow rummaged about the other room, straightening the wrinkled coarse blankets on the bed before spreading a new linen blanket on top of it. He fluffed the pillows.

"David," she groaned through gnashed teeth, "I'm quite sated with sex for the moment, and you should be, too! Why are you making the bed, we don't have time for this. The sooner we're off with the cart, the more of a head start we'll have!"

He appeared in the door frame and smiled. "There's always enough time to make you comfortable, my love."

"Wha—?" she gasped as he knelt down in front of her and gently wiggled forward into her cleavage with his knees. David wrapped one arm around each of Barbara's humongous mammaries, digging his fingers under the pliable yard-sacks of warm flesh and glands. His fingertips pulled softly and cradled more of Barbara's silky volume into his hold.

"On the count of three, let's stand up. Put your hands on my shoulders, I'll carry your breasts."

"Dave, that's just stupid! Just leave me right here, it's not like those few yards are going to make a difference! Go, bring the cart, I'll be okay. We really need to have a head start on Menena! She'll be fuming if she comes by tomorrow and we're gone! What if you wrench your back now?!"

"No!" he yelled, and Barbara jerked. "No, Barbara," he continued, his voice growing soft again. "Barbara, you're my wife. I won't leave you on the ground like a freak animal. For better or worse, in sickness and health, you're my wife, my love. We shared the bed during the good times, and I won't have you crawling on the floor in the bad times. So, one, two —"

"Three—ennnghhh!" moaned Barbara as her mammaries' skin strained along the top of her twin peaks. Her breasts bent under their own weight, trapping David's hands and arms in the deep folds. Together, the couple staggered towards the bed, step by dragging step.

"Ohthegods — ohthegods — ohthegods!" groaned David. He knew the weight of his wife well, and he never before had been bothered by it. They'd spent quite a few times with him standing and Barbara clinging with her thighs to his hips, their bodies dowelled together by his sizable wood enveloped all the way inside her clutching and milking cave. What he carried now was twice that, twice the weight of Barbara's divine body, stuffed into a slippery, malleable, yard-long breast under each of his arms.

The front of the bed ran against the back of Barbara's knees. She stumbled backwards and dragged David along. They crashed down on the straw mattress together.

~

"Uh — David?" she inquired after things finally settled down. Barbara's splayed arms lay trapped under the massive weight of her flattened breasts. Her husband's loins rested on top of her own luckily both well-padded and well-muscled midriff, and he struggled to free himself from the warm chasm of her cleavage.

"Ugh," he replied, finally wiggling out on his hands and knees. "Sorry, that was a bit rough." His hand caressed the plate-sized dome of Barbara's left areola. "Are you all right?"

"The gods, for a moment there I thought you'd squeeze them to pieces, dear," she moaned. "Just help me get my arms out from under — well, from under me, and I'll be quite comfortable while you," she gnashed her teeth, "please finally get that damned cart back here!"

~

"There now," groaned David, cradling Barbara's left breast and pulling it over his wife's midriff. The weighty orb bearing down on her ribcage took her breath away, but her left arm finally came free. David let the milky breast slowly down again, and it settled on the bed by Barbara's left flank. He quickly moved over and leaned into the malleable right sphere that softly engulfed his pushing shoulders until it rolled aside just far enough to give Barbara's other arm the chance to escape from the warm grave beneath her boob avalanche.

"Heavens, finally! Still, David, I tell you, I was able to carry them as long as I wore the penfmlll—"

Determinedly but gently he placed his forefinger on her lips and shut her up. "No, Barbara. You grew them as long as you wore the pendant, so let's not go there again."

Barbara sighed. She managed to push herself up on her elbows, her body now framed and obscured by the pair of her bulging bags that reached beyond her hips and rose almost two feet high. Pliable as they were, the stretching skin spanning across her breastbone left her not much wiggle room before the first stings of pain warned her that she was in danger of coming apart.

"Ouch! Oh my, it feels like I'm not going anywhere, David. If we want to run away far enough before Menena returns, you really need to get the cart. Even then I'm not sure I could bear its bumping and jolting for days."

"I'll be back before it's noon, dear," he whispered and pecked a kiss on her cheek. "Will you let me take sip though, I'm parched."

Barbara smiled and nodded. Her husband's face lit up as it disappeared behind the boulders of her flesh and glands. His hands stroked across the expanse of her right breast's skin and closed in on her dark areola. He cupped the puffy patch and lightly squeezed the nubby dome. David's warm breath touched her nipple. Moments later, his pouted lips brushed against the tip. His tongue peeked out and rimmed the rough surface before he opened his mouth further. Barbara's heightened senses fed the slowly stretching and sliding touch of his lips straight into her kindling lust. She twitched with every fraction of an inch that David sucked deeper between his lips, and her unfilled sheath contracted greedily from her groin up beneath her ribs, slobbering its juices between her legs and begging to be stuffed.

"The — gods!" panted Barbara, squeezing the words out through her teeth clenching in her outburst of lust. "G—giving — boiling — guuuhhh—!" Her teat hardened under her husband's deft tongue, and the hole in the tip widened expectantly. At the root of the swollen cylinder, the puckered valve opened up. Muscles throbbed deep inside her breast, contracting around her glands and ducts and forcing a big mouthful of warm milk as food for the journey down David's throat.

David gulped down the rich serving and let the hot teat out of his mouth. He rose from his haunches to his knees and brought his hands beneath the humungous orb in a long semi-circular stroke. His fingers dug lightly into the soft underboob, then he raised the front of the elongated bag to his face and kissed the generous teat again. "Oh, I can truly understand Menena," he gushed. "You're so delicious! Beyond delicious! I swear I never tasted anything better! Now my feet will be flying to get back to you, Barbara!"

~

David's jogging steps faded in the distance. Trapped in the loneliness of the bedroom and chained to the bed by the sources of her husband's delight, Barbara flexed her shoulders, grabbed the headboard of her bed and pulled herself up as far as her two flesh anchors allowed.

How will this end? she pondered, staring at the ceiling. Her breasts' tender envelope against her curves was like a warm and soft embrace, and soon her eyelids sagged. Each time she noticed she jerked and forced them open again.

Gah —! Mustn't fall asleep! Yet the harder she strained her eyelids open, the more a veil of darkness crept in from the edge of her vision.

Musn't — fall — asssssl—

~

She wasn't asleep, she was sure of it. Instead, she was aware of her body far beyond being awake. Her skin told her of every tiny piece of hay that poked through the makeshift mattress against the cloth under her back, of every wrinkle of the blanket under her breasts. Her breathing shifted the air, and she sensed its eddies creeping along her sweaty skin. Above, the outlines of the wooden roof beams and the underside of the thatch were just barely visible in the shadows.

Barbara tried to move her arms, but nothing happened. The darkness from the corners of her eyes closed in further. She stared through these two shrinking windows in the middle of her eyesight that struggled against the inky void; she felt how she sank deeper into a bottomless well; how she descended away from her eyes, from her head, her body. Slowly, she sagged into the new center of herself, into her breasts; all the skin she felt was of those two orbs; all that she was were those two orbs.

The sights and sounds and smells of the outside world disappeared and left only touch, only the feeling of weight, of the slight tension of skin encompassing a gargantuan volume, of a soft nest of cloth and straw cradling her round shapes, and it was good.

She smiled as she sensed the result of her glands' slow but steady work all through herself. She swelled relaxedly now, stretching bigger and higher at her own natural pace, slowly stockpiling fresh warm milk that appeared inside her drop by drop out of thin air. Barbara's ethereal smile didn't reach her face, because her face was part of a body that no longer mattered to her. Muscles twitched but not in her cheeks; they twitched around her beautiful, engorged nipples and made her areola crinkle and dome even more. Her arms, legs, hands were no longer of any importance. She was round and proudly swollen with milk; the ridiculously scrawny arms and legs were but useless appendages to her glorious mammarian self. Yet she knew that she was not nearly done. She was tiny compared to what she knew she could become. Barbara licked her lips, only it wasn't her tongue that moistened those clumsy, fleshy things in her face, but tiny extra ducts in her nipples around the main vent that opened now and let out a trickle of milk. The thin whitish coating soaked into the rough, dark skin of the areola. A little surplus ran down the curve of her breasts, and Barbara nearly passed out from the long-drawn sensation of something tracing the massive bulge.




Siren Song Ch. 05



Fingers. I want to feel fingers, other people's fingers, curious fingers! David's big strong fingers, Menena's slender deft fingers. Oh yes, Menena's fingers, how they knew so well what they needed to do! I want to feel them again, milking me, relieving me! I want the touch of their lips, pouting against my teats, nibbling at me, sucking me into their greedy hungry maws! I want to fill them; I want to spend all of me into them!

~

The cart's squeaking axle announced David's return. The grating noise reached Barbara's ears, but her ears didn't reach her mind any longer. As David slowly opened the door and entered the bedroom, shuffling and with his head and shoulders hanging, his wife rested comatose on the bed in the two foot deep pit of her mammaries.

David took a soft hold of her narrow shoulders and shook her gently. Even that slight motion sent wandering waves across the surface of Barbara's breasts. He eyed them warily. Were they still the same size when he had left —? His wife's milk factories had reached a volume where even an extra gallon would go unnoticed in the ocean of boob flesh rolling gently before his eyes.

~

Her husband's touch was but a tiny drop in the vast ocean of brushes, tickles and contacts that now shaped Barbara's whole world. The wavefronts of wobbling that spread through her breasts elevated her orgasmic delights. Her mams lost their weight and floated from the ground. Trapped in the blackness of only touch, Barbara sensed acceleration. She was propelled upward, faster and faster. Two tiny dots of light appeared high above her and approached quickly while her body of two orbs stretched out and inflated rapidly. The darkness took on shape, and Barbara was trapped inside the strangely formed cast, filling it more with every second. Her true skin squeezed against that hollow outside skin and fused with it, faster and faster while the she recognized rough, dimly lit wooden structures behind the growing windows overhead.

Other, stranger sensations bombarded her now. Barbara became worried. The world of touch and milk had been so delightfully simple, but this quickly became confusing. She blinked —

~

"Nnnngh! Not so rough, I'm awake," mumbled Barbara. She opened her eyes and frowned through her long-drawn yawn. "David? You're back already? I — I just dozed off for a bit, I swear I wasn't sleeping —"

He nodded, then he pinched his eyes shut. Tears ran down his cheeks.

"David, what's wrong?" whispered Barbara.

He turned and sat down heavily by her side, turning his back to his wife. With his elbows on his knees, David hunched forward and cupped his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. She has us trapped, Barb. I got the cart back, but it's no use. I saw the town's guards, they've put up some kind of manned barrier on the road. Who knows what stories Menena told them. They're checking everyone who wants to pass. We can't get away anymore. The cart's going to break a wheel or worse if we try to sneak by across the plain and through the forests."

Barbara exhaled. She tried to worry, but something deep inside her whispered: Menena's slender deft fingers —

She caressed his back. "Never fear, dear. Come, lie down by my side now. It'll be alright. Come to me. The fighting's over."

"How can you say that? How can you be so calm?"

"Come, I need you by my side, please. Who knows how long we'll have that luck anymore."

"Barbara —"

"Da—vid," she fluted gently. He sighed and undressed slowly before he lay down on the worn, linen-covered straw mattress.

~

Chapter 18: A Long Ride Into The Sunset

~

"And what if Menena were to never return from her ride?" mused David with his fingers meshed in the back of his head and his eyes staring at the ceiling. "Accidents happened before. So what if they found her far away from us? Maybe she took a bad tumble from her horse, there was an unlucky stone in the grass where her head fell —"

Barbara rose as far as her anchors allowed. "You're joking, right? David, I know your heart, I know you couldn't do it. No, you're not as cold as her, or I would've been so very mistaken."

He turned his head and held her gaze with grim determination. "Barbara, I'd do anything for you, love."

"But you won't do that," she insisted. "I'd rather serve gladly as her cow for the rest of my life than to burden my conscience with such an atrocity!"

"You can't suggest that in earnest, Barbara!" He reared and turned on the bed. Sitting at the foot end, he faced what little he could see of his wife beyond those two proud, round bags that shielded her face and eyes from him. David's hands held her ankles and massaged her feet gently.

Barbara gulped hard and fought for words as the fire of shame tinted her cheeks. "But I do. It's the only way. Just think about it, David. She has to treat us decently. Me, because she wants my milk more than anything. You, she can't lock you up, and she can't have you looking like the slave she wants to make you into, because people would talk then. She's always cared about her reputation the most. The only way to keep you in line is to treat me decently as well, but still she wants to punish us by keeping us apart. So I guess she'll leave me here, safe out of sight. Her precious, precious cow trapped in the stable, ready to be milked anytime —" Barbara bit her lips. "Gods, you can't imagine how good it felt to give all that milk!" she groaned, sucking her lower lip over her teeth. "It's — it's li—iiiyyy—unnhhh!" Her voice changed from piercing shriek into throaty moan. David's face rose over the horizon of her mammaries, his mouth encircled with white droplets.

"Oh yes I can," he smiled sadly, caressing her puffy areola. "I can't resist you either, love. I see your nipples, and I must relieve them. I can't fight it. Nobody could."

"So it's agreed, then? David?" Barbara raised her arm over her promontory. Her fingers blindly reached and beckoned for his hand.

He sighed and nodded as he leaned in and their fingers meshed. "Yes, love. If that is what you really feel in your heart, then I'll follow you into Menena's slavery."

"Feel? No, David. I don't know what to feel anymore. I just know that she has won and it's the only thing left for us — and — and that there's something telling me it's the right thing, too. The right thing for me. It's my fate. Look at me! Giving milk, it's the thing I can do best." She sniveled. "It's the only thing I can do anymore, and if it placates that harpy, I'll do it gladly."

David rolled onto his side and cuddled the left one of Barbara's torso-sized chubby breasts. "And to think, just this morning I hoped we'd finally be out from under her boot." He rubbed his cheek against his wife's sensitive soft avalanche of motherly abundance. Barbara shivered in delight as he snuggled closer and squeezed into the giant pillow of warm young woman. Her breast flesh sculpted itself against his skin and engulfed him like the smoothest silk. It told Barbara of every square inch of his body rubbing against her, of every depression and muscle, and especially of the growing appendage that sprung from between his legs.

"Unh David, grab my breast harder, push into it —," she moaned.

He stopped his caresses and sighed. "No, dear. This doesn't feel right. Let me roll you over, I want to hold you, not this strange lump that some evil magic has hexed on you."

Together, they managed to shift Barbara's left breast across her body. Her breathtaking pair, each two feet across and a yard long, now rested side by side, slightly flattened by their own weight. Their teats peeked across the edge of the bed while Barbara lay on her right side. Her husband circled her and spooned up against the curve of her bare back and her wide, fleshy buttocks. He reached around her narrow waist, holding her close with his strong arms around her midriff. Barbara raised her left leg, gently pulled the seven inches of his flaccid cock along the length of her crotch and closed her thighs again. David's impressive rod didn't twitch in her warm fold, not even a single time.

"Oh my, you're truly exhausted, aren't you?" she cooed.

"No, love. It's that I just want to hold you. Holding you like this, it feels like none of all the weird things ever happened." He moved his arms, and the immediate sensation of Barbara's giant breasts against his skin asserted that indeed they had happened and still did. He sighed.

"My goodness, all the milk you gave, and the sheer size of your body! You must've been stuffing yourself! I don't know if I'll be able to catch enough fish for you."

"No, David. I — I become thirsty every now and then, but that's about it."

He frowned. "This can't be right! When's the last time you ate, Barbara?"

"A week ago?" she shrugged. "I just don't feel hungry, only thirsty every now and then and, well, the only hunger is for your one kind of meat that I've come to enjoy to the hilt." She turned her head and winked over her shoulder while she stuck out her buttocks.

"We're truly cursed, aren't we?" he replied with a shiver. "Look at all that." David's hands stroked the onset of her underboob gently. He slipped one thigh between Barbara's legs and wormed a bit higher and closer to Barbara until he rested his head against her shoulder. His lips brushed against Barbara's soft skin. "That amulets's evil magic has us in its grip, there just is no other way. And yet it feels so — so right. It's not just our bodies, it's making us mad, too, is what I'm saying. I'm sorry, dear. I should've kept you safe, but I failed you. And now Menena's about to turn me into her toy again, and you'll be trapped out here."

Barbara's fingers played in his hair. "David, magic. Not something we ever had a chance to fight. We never should've fought it in the first place. I'm just happy we're still together. Tomorrow will come what may, but today you truly are my husband."

"And you're my wife, forever." He smiled wearily. "So, our last hours together. What do you want me to do for you?"

"Just hold me like this for a —," she yawned, "— for a little longer."

"Mmmh," he groaned as his hold around her waist relaxed.

"D—David? Are you awake?" mumbled Barbara. Her eyelids dropped ever so irresistibly. "David, I'm so tired, I thhhh..."

A thin, blue ray shone through a gap in the timbers of the hut's wall, and the faintest waft of singed cloth drifted in from the outside.

~

The tiny hill of sand was merely an inch high. As she lurched ahead, Barbara's toes got caught on it nevertheless. She canted forward. Her eyes snapped open from their drowsy, half-closed, aimless stare.

Barbara twitched and barely managed to keep her balance. "Whoa there, must've been dozing off again," she muttered to herself. "Almost tripped over my own feet." She looked around while she kept on walking. The cool, soft sand yielded just enough to shape itself pleasantly against her soles. Its blueish nightly hues stretched in a flat plane to where the mist-veiled horizon changed into a black, cloud- and starless sky. Craning her neck, she glanced over her shoulder. The meandering line of footsteps she had left behind faded in the distance.

Barbara peeked straight ahead through the V-shaped gap between her breasts, but the narrow crevice in the vast expanse of straining skin gave only the tiniest sliver of an outlook. She raised her arms high over her head, angled her hands and worked her fingertips into the slit to spread the cleavage of her humungous spheres apart for a better view. Her splayed fingers pushed lightly into the warm, yielding mass of her breasts, and the pair of orbs at least the diameter of David's height slowly picked up speed. The two surfaces of warm skin separated and revealed nothing but untouched sand ahead. Barbara kept up the gentle pressure on the inner part of her breasts until she felt the outer sides running into her flanks, hips and thighs; the impact sent sloshing waves through her mams' bulk. Barbara sensed their wobbling mass as rubbery resistance while they floated weightlessly in front of her lithe body. They throbbed slowly, and while they relentlessly kept on swelling with milk, the increase was almost lost on their already overwhelming size.

"This is not your way, Barbara," cooed a soft and gentle voice behind her back. Barbara turned her head.

The silver woman without a face stood several dozen yards away, beckoning her. "Barbara, please. Why do you want to go willingly into this darkness, when the light has been right before your eyes all this time, my dear? Yet you walk every wrong path and take every detour you can. Please, turn around and come home, Barbara. People hunger for you. Don't let your milk go to waste."

"I can't turn!" Barbara replied as she staggered on and the tall shape slowly disappeared from the cone of light that followed the twin balloons and their tiny wrangler between them. "Look at the size of me! My breasts, they're dragging me forward. If I don't keep on walking, I'll fall down and then I won't get up again!"

"Oh dear, oh dear," was the reply of the silvery shadow that now mingled into the night behind the young woman. "Are your breasts all that you can think about? Your husband is right by your side, and night is about to fall. You will learn a lesson now, and I think you will like it." The non-face radiated the suggestion of a smile as the silhouette raised a hand and snapped her fingers.

A thick branch popped up right between Barbara's legs and tripped her up. With a surprised shriek, she stumbled forward. Out of the blue, her mammaries gained real weight. The swollen orbs crashed down on the sand sloshing and wobbling like jelly. Barbara flailed helplessly as she was dragged up and over her own rolling breasts by the straining skin of her ribcage —

~

Barbara woke up slowly. She felt a tugging on her ribs; nothing painful, just a constant pull. David's arms still lay around her. She smiled wearily while she rolled her shoulders and blinked her eyes open.

A curved glowing expanse greeted her. The diffuse light from outside came in with the golden hue of the sunset and painted a delicious luster on the distended skin of the smooth-sloped mountains of her breasts. Barbara felt along the silky surface for as far as her arms reached. Only the faintest strain deep in the humungous volume beneath the soft skin gave away that with every passing moment more milk was made and hoarded inside them.

"Still good," she mumbled to herself. "David?"

Barbara squirmed slowly, stretching the muscles in her back and her legs. Between her firm thighs, something warm and long and round rolled as she angled her hips. Barbara's face lit up. She began gyrating her hips on the rod she held trapped against her crotch.

"Mmmh, David," she groaned. "Oh my, evening wood is just as nice as morning wood. What are you dreaming about right now, mmh? Your eel's quite fattened up, time to put it in my smoking oven while we still have the time."

No reply. She prodded him gently with her elbow. "Husband, wake up," she fluted. "Your wife needs you to do your marital duties, and she needs them thick and long! Are you willing to make our last night one to remember?"

Still no reply. She squeezed her legs together. The warm rod, easily two and a half inches thick, answered with a twitch. David mumbled incomprehensibly. Barbara reached behind herself, fingered searchingly and grabbed his hip, rocking him. The meaty snake trapped between her toned legs tugged at her pubes' curls.

"Ah. Gods, that's quite a mouthful you've got there, darling. Wake and shine, sleepyhead! Let's put that gift of wood to good use! I don't want to leave a single drop behind for Menena."

He stirred.

"I ain't got wood," he mumbled while he spooned closer and gently tightened his arms around her waist. "Tired."

She smiled and grabbed the trapped glans protruding from her crotch.

"U-huh? And what's —"

She gasped. The head was the size she knew intimately when he was hard, but now it was all soft and squishy, for a few moments at least. It quickly grew hot in her grip as blood rushed in, swelling and pushing forward as the trunk behind it elongated and thickened in slow, steady pulses.

"Mrrrr—," David groaned raunchily behind her back and rocked his hip against the taut pillows of her buttocks. "You naughty tease, you! Fine, have it your way."

"David! The gods, it's soft and yet so huge already! You've grown, too! Oh my, it's just now getting hard!"

The glans spread the grip of her fingers until she clutched a dark-red apple. The trunk tried to force her thighs apart by its sheer girth. This was so many ways of wrong, yet that was just her head talking. Her crotch felt the rub of the veined surface as it swelled to a log three inches across. The hard pole moved forward along the length of her ever-wet labia, parting the jungle of her curls and sliding against the smooth pink stretch between her hooded clit and the hungry, slowly opening rosette of her vagina, and a bestial urge stirred deep in her brain and decided that this was oh so very right.

"My — my balls," groaned David. "Bigger too —"

"Got to have it now," Barbara rasped. Her hand slid down the veined shaft. Even with the root of David's gargantuan cock trapped between her thighs, she held a whole hand's width of the thick pole in her grip with unclaimed inches of his shaft to spare. "That's no eel, that's a moray! Just the thing my cave needs!"

David eased away, only to have his glans bump against his wife's venus mound. The first droplets of his precum hung in her blond curls. His rod's slight upward bend meant he fitted Barbara's whole crotch like the curve of a well-shaped saddle, and his purple saddle horn kept her from sliding off.

"Nnng! Barbara, lift you leg, it's not working. I'm too stiff, can't get in like that. Besides —"

She looked over her shoulder. "Oh yes, I know. I want to take a look at it, too! A magic cock! Mmmh, if it's really as big as it feels ..."

~

Barbara strained the onset of her left breast to get enough room to turn and better look at her husband.

"Delicious," she muttered. A thin trickle of saliva ran from the corner of her mouth, and she didn't even notice.

David knelt on the bed with his toned legs angled apart. He needed both hands to hold up the thick pipe of engorged flesh; beneath the root, his swollen balls, each more than the size of his fist, filled his taut straining sack almost beyond capacity. David slowly lowered his cock towards the bed. The apple-sized head nearly reached his knees.

"Double the size, Barbara! I — I don't know how that happened. Heavens, maybe we angered the pendant! Maybe that's its revenge! Making us into nothing but cock and breasts! Turning us into such misshapen —"

"Misshapen? David, look at it, it's gorgeous! The gods, it's bigger than a stallion's, and it's beautiful! This is what I want my man to look like! The body of a god, and the cock of a beast! Ha! Menena can't enjoy you now," Barbara grinned. "And if she tried, she'd just burst on it."

"Nobody's going to enjoy this," David replied, staring incredulously. "It's so big, there's not a woman in the world who could take this."

"Nobody but me," his wife answered with a gleam in her eyes. "Yes, it's made for me. Only for me. My own. My precious —"

David shook his head. "No, Barbara. I'm sorry, but I think not even you can take something of that size. I've grown a third arm between my legs. Look at the length of it! Very nearly half a yard! And the head, it's huge like a fist. The gods, this is a nightmare! That trunk would split your belly wide open from your gate to your throat, dear."




Siren Song Ch. 05



"Really now," said Barbara, licking her lips. Straining and pulling her left breast still closer to get some wiggle room, she arched her back and raised her thigh, presenting her impressive vulva to her husband. Her slender fingers slid into the deep funnel. Curving her forefingers into hooks, she pulled at the tender membranes of her insides. Smacking and slurping, her gate stretched open and the wet curls of her pubes thinned as the yielding skin of her venus mound distended along.

"See? That annoying bone under my bush is gone. And look at this —" Her fingertips jumped along the circular muscle ribs lining the inside of the flexible tube that ran up just beneath the skin of her midriff. "Mmmh! Remember last time? Oh, I'll stretch around you and milk you so good. It'll be the night that never ends. Here, this'll make it easy for you to dive right in!"

Barbara turned about on hands and knees and spread her arms wide to reach around the bulging man-sized pillows of her breasts that now lay halfway under her. She rested her upper body on the warm support and groaned quietly as her weight squeezed the yielding filling apart until her breast skin's tautness stopped the pancaking and balanced her weight.

"Nnngh! Yes, it'll hold. David — David, plug me now! Do it like the beasts do! Ride me, mount me like the cow that I am, my bull!"

Presenting her ass to him, Barbara raised her hips and spread her thighs. Her outer lips glistened, already lacquered with her overflowing juices. Thick drops dripped from the crinkled gate and ran down the smooth slide between her wrinkled inner labia. They coated the engorged clit that had out-swollen its hood and sat fat and red like a strawberry at the bottom. The copious lubricant dribbled down in elongating threads and pooled on the sheets in a thick puddle.

"David — oh David, hurry, I need it, mount me!"

He groaned. The sight and the smell of her gaping drenched lips reached something right in the primal parts of his mind. David's trunk quickly regained the few inches he'd lost over their conversation. With the head stuck against the sheets, the throbbing rod bent upward as it engorged eagerly.

He moved closer on his knees. Aiming his pole with both hands on the root of the sixteen inches, David held the tip into the slow sludgy waterfall. Barbara's juices crept warmly around the thick head that had long shed its foreskin. They clung to the underside of his glans, and he felt the gentle tug on the sensitive band as the plump drops dragged filaments after them while they descended slowly.

David lifted his rod against her clit, catching more of the ample lubricant. The silky purple skin touched Barbara's nervous bud. She shrieked and curled her toes, and the rosette in her vulva's depths gaped and pouted like a hungry, salivating, sideway mouth.

"In—side!" she groaned. "Gods, stick it in, run me through, will ya!" Her cave smacked and squelched as the muscular seal widened and contracted again. "Need it! David, need it!" she panted. "Itching! Burning! The mare needs it! The cow must be bred!"

~

He hesitated and stared at the funnel of flushed, glistening skin. Its walls flexed slowly, forming wandering waves that invited him into the wet abyss. Every empty inch of Barbara's soaked sheath begged to be stretched wide.

"It's so —," he started, then he fell silent and backed away. His hands let go of his dick, and it bobbed down on the mattress under its own weight, throbbing to his heartbeat. "No, Barbara. This is madness. This isn't what we wanted to be, love," he whispered.

The trickle from her sheath changed color. The clear liquid grew opaque and turned from water to white. David extended a hand and brushed against the plump, red outer lips.

"Yes, love!" moaned Barbara, oblivious to his worries. "Stick your fingers into it! Feel it! Feel how wet I am! Now — take you rod and plow me! Plow this fertile field of woman and sow your seed deep into the swamp!"

He raised his fingertips to his mouth and sampled the coating on his hand. The salty tang of her juices was gone, and the only taste greeting his tongue was — milk.

"B—Barbara, it's coming out of your crotch! You're dripping milk!"

"Yes," whispered Barbara, eyes closed, head raised. "Milk. Milk is good. Milk makes us strong." She moaned again. "Dive into the milk cave, love. Lube your pillar and part my milk sea with it, stick your giant spigot into this milk barrel ..."

"Listen to me, Barbara! We're — we're turning into things!"

"And I don't care!" howled Barbara. "Oh gods, I need it so bad!" Her belly shuddered in cramps of over-arousal. Thick gobs of her milky lube burped from her clenching and twitching hole. She struggled for air as the raging emotions of feral desire burned through her mind.

Command him! Command the rod! whispered a coarse voice in her mind. He is Man. Man obeys. Man obeys the Voice.

"Come and ride your co—ow," sang Barbara, beside herself with arousal, clenching her hands into the blanket and arching her back even more. David's cock took command of him, twitched and rose out of its own strength, curving itself upward with Barbara's dripstone cave firmly in its sight. The sudden motion of the pillar of straining, engorged flesh made David jerk in surprise. He lost his balance and canted forward. His hands reached instinctively for a steadying grip on the nearest, sturdiest thing presenting itself.

"Yes!" shrieked Barbara as David's fingers dug into her ass' pair of meaty globes while the tip of his glans' cone found its target. David panted, struggling against his urge to bury all of his rod into Barbara. He lost the fight when she flexed her buttocks. Juicy muscles pulsed under his fingers. David pulled the butt cheeks apart and moved his hip forward. Membranes of soft, warm, delicate skin yielded around the riving cone.

"Hooooh—!" bellowed the woman before him. His hands wandered higher and clamped around her waist, which wasn't as narrow as he remembered, but still looked almost like an hourglass shape compared to the fertile hips housing the greedy cave that slowly swallowed the fist-sized glans.

"Gods," he groaned. Barbara's muscle ribs finished their first huge bite. Her plump outer labia slipped into the ridge behind the glans' cone. All around the head, the sheath milked and pulled at him. Retreat was no longer an option. He leaned forward and ran his hands around Barbara's flanks. Her midriff was almost flat, yet along the middle his fingertips traced the long hollow tube as it flexed and bucked like a snake burrowing under her skin.

"Oh yes, tickle it! Stroke it!" moaned Barbara. "So hungry — so empty — filling —"

David's fingers followed the muscle pipe down towards her cock-bloated crotch, and Barbara's sounds of delight turned into bestial grunts. Her hips moved back and forth, but he was far too tightly wedged into her first inches for her bucking motions to drive him in deeper.

"Come now," she managed to articulate. "Need — push in!" Barbara felt his fingers reaching the thick bulge where his glans showed like a small melon wedged in under the straining skin of her pubes.

"Stuck. Too tight," he replied, struggling to keep his thoughts together; to keep his mind from melting away into the throbbing pillar between his legs.

Barbara rolled her eyes. "No! I'll — never again — be too tight," she growled through clenched teeth. Her thick juices slowly filled up the tube now that its outlet was thoroughly plugged. She focused on contracting it even more, starting at its end somewhere at the height of her stomach. Ring by straining muscle ring it pulled tight, forcing its ample filling of slippery ooze down towards David's glans. The more the wavefront approached her crotch, the more the growing bulge of pent-up secretions rivaled the bulge caused by her husband's inhuman cock head.

"Push — now!" she moaned as the two melons touched and united into a single bulge, drowning the stuck head in a bubble of lubricant. David's grip changed towards the onset of her thighs, and he pulled her closer. All of her blocked vulva slowly yielded up her womb. She squeezed stronger.

David gasped for air as the high-pressured liquid backed up into the duct of his dick. Barbara's milky lube wormed down his urethra until its warmth spread out into his groin and filled his sack. His balls throbbed bigger as the strange juice soaked into them and mingled with his pent-up seed.

"Barbara —," he wheezed with his eyes closed and his face raised to the ceiling.

"Hold on — almost —," she panted. The thick liquid sneaked in between his glans and the ribbed wall of her vagina and lubed the piston seizure. "Yes — uuunnh yes!"

Her warm natural oil leaked through the tight seal of her straining labia, slowly glazing the inside of the thighs. Barbara shivered and exhaled in a long chain of lusty vowels as her husband's oversized tool conquered inch by inch of her innards, forcing the ribbed wall of her strange sheath thinner and tauter. David leaned his weight on her hips, canting forward to gain leverage over the reluctant muscles. Barbara squealed, struggling for a grip as she slid ahead on her pillows. Her massive orbs squeezed flatter and wider, spreading her arms apart and robbing her of the last hold on the bed.

"Oaaahh—!" she groaned as David's burning body came down on her back and trapped her between his muscular physique and the straining spheres of her breasts beneath. The couple bobbed on the soft orbs with David's long thrusts providing the rhythm. Barbara struggled for air, and her vision dimmed as her climax approached rapidly. Her sheath was reamed wide while her weight rolling back and forth over her milk pillows massaged and excited all of their glands-stuffed filling.

"Gods — keep going — k'p g'nnng! Nnngh! N—n—nnnghh!"

David obeyed, he even managed to pick up speed as the skin of his roaming piston became evenly coated with Barbara's thick white lube. Barbara threw her head left and right in rising ecstasy. Her sweat-soaked blond strands whipped against the sensitive expanse of her breasts' skin. Every pleat that her knotted fingers pulled into the milk-white surface, every drop of sweat running down the glistening curves, every fold of strain seemed wired into the throbbing strawberry of her lust knob and her itching, stone hard nipples. The massive pillar fled her cave, she deflated and sagged onto her stuffed breasts; it barged into her again, and the tube swelled and strained like impaled on a pair of bellows.

At the apex of David's motions, his glans now struck the deep end of Barbara's sheath and spread the skin between her breasts. Each time Barbara's long tunnel bottomed out on the hot cone, David's tip ran into a knot of nerves and triggered a rush of contraction straight through the young woman's whole chest, taking her breath away as all of the muscles between her ribs hardened. Each time she twitched out of control, an impaled butterfly spread-eagled on silky pillows.

"C—coming," she moaned with her eyes closed. Her thighs trembled in spasms. She clawed at her own breasts, losing herself in the raging storm of lust wrecking her body. David pulled out one and a half feet with each stroke, emptying her until nothing on her front seemed out of the ordinary, then his thrusts conquered the many ribbed inches and made her skin strain around the thick muscle sheath that relentlessly milked his elephantine cock. Her juices bubbled and squirted out when he burrowed his meat into her, and the taut seal slurped and smacked when he struggled to pull out against his wife's clutch.

~

"It's coming!" David bellowed, clutching Barbara's hips and pushing as hard and deep into her as he could. His balls, his cock; they throbbed in unison, gathering all of the momentum his body could provide. "I'm breedin' — hurnnn — you! Y—'ll be — soaked —!"

His crotch pulsed frantically, squeezing pints of liquid into his cock. The hot load filled up its whole length and reached the head when suddenly a single muscle ring of Barbara's sheath closed around the ridge just behind his glans. David hunched over his wife's back.

"Gods! What are you doing — choking —"

His ducts overflowed with seed as his balls forced it up into his cock. With no place to go, the mix of infused milk and sperm spread into his cock flesh that soaked it up like a sponge. And like a sponge, it swelled heavier and thicker with every consumed drop. With the head being caught at the deep end of Barbara's sheath, the taut seal of her stretched labia flipped about as the beginning growth forced the first half-inch of David's further elongating rod out of her.

"I'm — growing!" he moaned.

"Oh yes you are," she replied and smiled as she sensed her sheath stretching. Muscle rings relaxed as others contracted instinctively. Now Barbara's crotch held the root of her husband's cock in place, and the throbbing hot pillar's head was free again. David struggled for air, clinging to his wife's waist for support. Her long cave filled with more of her juices, and they crept through the skin of the trapped organ and plumped him further.

"Still growing longer!" gasped David. His elongating shaft slipped one by one over the muscle ribs inside Barbara's hollow tube. "You're squeezing — your milk — into my cock! Gods, it's not stopping, let me pull out, you're about to burst!" He pushed into his wife's buttocks and tried to wedge his fingers between his loins and her ass, but the clutch of her sheath's opening was unyielding. Its length bucked and flexed frantically, and it still fed more of her milky fuel down his cock. Her clutch relaxed just enough to allow her lube to make its way down his cock and into his balls. Seconds later, the warmth and itching of growth spread through his sack, too.

"Heavens, Barbara! Too much — must — pull out! You'll rip —"

"What a way to go," she sighed happily while her arousal climbed higher still. Barbara reached and strained to cradle more of her breasts in her arms. Inside her now thigh-thick muscle sheath, the glans of David's cock that held her impaled throbbed between her breasts and spread her cleavage from within.

"Let go, Barbara! You're full! Oh please, I can't stop it from growing!"

"Uuunh yes! Yes! Stretch me! The gods, I'm — bottoming! Between my breasts! Full to — the brim," moaned Barbara. She pulled her arms against her flanks and managed to wedge her hands into her cleavage from below. Her fingers followed the overfilled sheath that still milked and twitched, though its muscle rings were pulled so thin now around the unyielding rod that its efforts to contract barely showed.

A horrible stinging burrowed into her sternum. Barbara's eyes widened as the fog of mind-numbing delights fled with the sudden pain. Warm, sticky liquid coated her fingertips, then came flaps of flesh and skin. "The gods — oh the gods, I'm tearing apart," she gasped. Her fingers touched a throbbing cone that wasn't of her own flesh. She traced the rim of the hole in her cleavage that was now tightly plugged from within by David's glans. The shock diverted her attention from her groin, and the sheath's stranglehold on the root of her husband's pole relaxed.

"Pulling — out," panted David as Barbara's ring of muscle let go. The glans disappeared into the new cleft with a smack. Barbara frantically fingered the strange thing in her bosom. Her fingers squeezed two plump, sausage-like lips with a thick, hooded knob in the fold near her neck, right at the beginning of her cleavage. They deflated rapidly, turning back into smooth skin as Barbara's sheath contracted without the massive stuffing of her husband's cock. She strained her neck to look down into the triangle between her breast. Except for a thin red line that looked like a faint scratch, there was no hint left that anything had happened at all.

Not torn, Barbara realized. It's — oh goddess, it's a second —

Curiosity and an overwhelming urge of lust, of desiring to be reduced to a sheath around a cock, grabbed her. She panted, "David! David, run me through again!"

He held her buttocks and stared down at the impossible length of the veined cylinder that Barbara's insides had nurtured on him. The cock was thicker than his wrists and surely longer than twenty-five inches, and its head was still inside the straining, taut-stretched ring of skin of Barbara's struggling gate and connected him to his wife. "No. No way! It's too big —"

"Pret—ty please, Da—vid," fluted Barbara with her sweetest sing-song voice. He twitched, and moments later, David's thick pillar obediently filled her again. He took his time, feeling his way inside her like a blind man relying on just his sense of touch in a dark and dangerous place. Barbara sensed no pain, it was just the overwhelmingly building feeling of stretching this time. Her fingers caressed her new labia as they manifested and plumped with every inch that David's glans burrowed closer to them. Finally they bulged with his head running against them from the inside. Barbara ran her fingertips along the petals, dove them into the meaty crinkled rosette and rubbed her lube all over the thin skin of the hood. She barely managed to squeeze air into her lungs. The spitting image of her vulva was just as ragingly sensitive as its hungry original between her legs. She pulled at the thick pads, spreading them apart, and as they reluctantly yielded and strained open with David's swollen purple glans squeezing out, Barbara reached a gentle yet massive climax as both her old and her new clit stretched inside her taut flesh.

He's opened me all the way. He's deflowered that strange hidden crack, and I'm a twin-mouthed cave now. Twin-mouthed cave into the valley of milk and boobs, bubbled her thoughts as her fingers spread the thick stream of precum from David's head all over her cleavage. Her smile was beyond manic, and the next orgasm took away the last traces of bewilderment and replaced them with raging whorish delights.

"Faster — now," she demanded. David accelerated his voluminous strokes up and down her slimy tube. His hands began to tremble on her hips, and he gulped hard under his heavy breathing. His coconut balls dangled about in the cage of Barbara's and his own thighs, and they climbed slowly as the muscles in the skin of his sack contracted.

"Gods, Barbara, I can't hold it any longer," David moaned. "It's all coming out, truly this time!"

"Yes, pump it into me!" howled Barbara. "Fill my womb, there's so much room in my wide hips!"

The glans ran against Barbara's other gate, but this time it didn't yield. The glistening labia held their own and kept the deep end of the long cave shut. The first long spurt of boiling semen filled what little space there was between the giant cock and the pulsating walls of Barbara's tube. His balls throbbed and squeezed forth all of their overfed stock of seed. The plentiful squirts rushed out and deposited pint upon pint into Barbara's receptacle. The sheath plumped into a quivering tube running up Barbara's front. Its ample filling forced David's cock out inch by inch, and with every voluminous gush the swollen rod and the bloated balls lost another fraction of an inch in length and girth as they spent their liquid padding they had soaked up so eagerly before.

"Unh David, keep going —," Barbara moaned even though the highest tide had already gone by. She felt the seedy weight of her long tube and how it rested against the cleft where her breasts touched. The gate of her sheath barely held on to David's shrunken glans now, milking out the last of his cum. The rippling muscles caressed his burning skin until the final drop had been drawn out. Then the tight seal gently squeezed out the blueish, wrinkled head. The deflated yet still impressive sixteen inches of his spent rod dangled down between David's thighs.




Siren Song Ch. 06



Part 6 -- Tumblin' Down

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

~

First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2012-10-03

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to CoffeePilot for his time and patience.

~

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

Once upon a time ...

The year is 1185, the world is Altaerna, and the place is somewhere in the temperate climate where people are mostly pale and mostly stubborn.

A winter ago, a lithe and lissom young woman saved a handsome young fisherman from drowning. The fisherman's would-be fiance, headstrong cold-hearted not-so-young Menena, the town's mayor and wealthy shop owner, didn't take it lightly when her trusted maid Barbara and her well-equipped secret boy toy David fell for each other hard and fast despite being unable to join in carnal pleasures (on account of Barbara's nethers being a thimble and David being ... rather more than that).

Consumed by jealousy, Menena saw to it that David was banned from the town, with Menena maligning him whenever she could. Barbara was given the boot but still found a little lenience in Menena's eyes for the years of service, so the lithe blonde was allowed to spend market days in the side streets where she's now trying to sell for a living the fishes that David catches with his tiny boat and his worn nets. The outcast couple of twenty-somethings got secretly married and made it through their first year, living a life of privation in a tiny hut atop the cliffs, hours from the town.

Part 1:

Spring has returned. Going for a swim while waiting for her husband's return, Barbara hits upon a drifting net chock-full of fish while her other half David makes but a single lucky catch out at sea. Reunited, the young couple retreats into their favorite hideaway to have another go at their most pressing problem, their inability to consume their marriage properly. Still unable to succeed, they resort to each other's dexterity like the many times before.

As Barbara prepares lunch gutting the fish David brought, she discovers a valuable pendant in its belly. Putting it on, she — is woken by her husband, hours later. Not only has she developed quite the appetite for the unfamiliar fishes that the new net seems to attract, she also suddenly succeeds in devouring herculean meat (wink, wink). When David sets out to a bigger and more distant town in an effort to sell more of his catches, Barbara ends up doing a little self-exploration on a moonlit night. She also ends up with quite some more Barbara before the night is through. After a day spent in fear and despair, and lucky for her self-conscious mind, a) most of it has disappeared again by the time Dave returns, and b) David doesn't mind the surplus left on her at all.

As the next market day comes around, Barbara squeezes into her now ill-fitting old clothes and is about to go on a quest for answers about what has befallen her, and her first stop will be the town's healer and midwife. Alas, the market isn't over yet ...

Part 2:

Following Barbara's erroneously assuring visit to the town's midwife, Barbara and David indulge in Barbara's new voluptuousness and carnal hunger. As her ever-increasing desires begin to overwhelm David's abilities, he searches for a second opinion on the strange pendant and gets advice from a young, traveling, bad-tempered, dark-skinned dancing girl called Yrba who also happens to be witch. Meanwhile, back home alone, another outbreak of multiple expansion hits Barbara as her strange visions once again cross over into her reality. When she wakes the next morning, more than just her most eye-catching attributes have changed ...

Part 3:

After David relays his tale of the meeting with the witch, Barbara allows him to hide away the pendant. Barbara's worries about her husband's response to her increased voluptuousness prove to be unfounded. As they celebrate their reunion after the days of separation, some of the power fueling Barbara's transformation is passed on to her husband, enlarging his one already oversized attribute even further while shielding their minds from becoming suspicious.

With David away on his next trip to the city, Barbara attempts to better her standing with her former mistress — and it backfires in ways that the poor young woman never would've expected. Weak, drained and more chest-heavy than ever, she staggers home ...

Part 4:

Much to her horror, Barbara's body draws its own conclusion after her mammaries have been relieved of a bucketful of milk at her former mistress' hands, and it decides that a pair of massively swollen breasts capable of lactation by the gallon is the way to go. As Menena arrives the next morning, Barbara is helplessly chained to the kitchen table by her two humungous orbs brimming with milk. Menena discovers the enchanted pendant and decides on a whim that her favorite milk source isn't big enough yet. She ties up Barbara and leaves the helpless young woman exposed to an even bigger dose of the trinket's otherworldly powers.

David returns the next morning only to run into Menena. Tempers fly as the bossy woman realizes that her former toy boy will stay true to his wife no matter what ...

Part 5:

While Barbara remains trapped in the hut, her body rendered immobile by her colossal cans and her mind drifting into and out of strange visions, David tries to find a way to get her to the witch he so rashly infuriated, only to learn that Menena has taken steps to make sure her slave and her cow can't leave before her ultimatum runs out. As her lust and breasts grow, Barbara becomes more than willing to give herself up to her former mistress.

A pendant-induced afternoon nap leads to another vision, and when Barbara and David wake up at dawn, they learn that Barbara's breasts are not the only things susceptible to enlargement in the vicinity of the strange medallion. Endowed beyond belief by the pendant's powers and a slave to Barbara's horniness, David's reluctance doesn't last long until he gives in and services his wife deep into the night. As the couple drifts away into exhaustion and the moon rises over the ocean, the scene is set for another player about to enter the game ...

~

Part 6: Tumblin' down

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"Now I'm falling on my knees / And tumblin' down" — Jenna Andrews, Tumblin' down

~

Chapter 19: The Calling

~ 

The full moon neared the apex of its path. Its cold light filtered through a thin veil of high clouds and turned the crests of the ocean waves into silvery lines as they ran out along the beach beneath the cliffs. The windows of the small, two-room hut sitting close to the edge were dark.

Beneath the rear room's window, the celestial light mirrored in the palm-sized silver disc of a pendant that lay on the ground, partially leaning against the outside of the wall.

~

Barbara stirred in her sleep. The window was open, and the leaves in the bushes outside rustled in a gentle breeze that came in from the sea. The tall blonde's breath followed the rhythm of the distant whispers of the waves rolling onto the shore.

Three months ago, twenty years old Barbara had been sylphlike, just a twig in her same age husband's strong hands and so tight and narrow everywhere on her body that they hadn't been able to consummate their marriage but with their deft fingers on and in each others' sensuous parts. Then the silver pendant arrived, hidden in the belly of an accidental catch, and over the course of the weeks Barbara the slender water rat had swollen from svelte to curvaceous. While her body had been satisfied reaching statuesque proportions and changing some of its inner workings to wetly welcome her well-hung husband, her breasts had suffered a different fate. At the hands of her former mistress and now fiercest foe, Menena the mayor, poor Barbara had been tricked into chewing a handful of certain performance-enhancing herbs not meant for human consumption but for bovines.

Barbara snuggled the curves of her round seductive buttocks and back closer to the warm muscles of her husband. Their exhausted bodies spooned again now that they both had sagged down the slope of Barbara's mind-numbingly mountainous breasts. The massive two and a half foot high and almost four foot long pears with peach-sized nipples dwarfed the young woman's perfect physique and turned her appearance into a grotesque caricature of womanhood. Pancaking under their own weight, the barrels of nurturing glands and padding tissue filled more than half of the wide mattress made from straw and a thin layer of coarse cloth.

Barbara groaned and rolled her hip. She smacked her lips delightedly as the insides of her thighs and the muscle rings of her vagina rubbed around the half-erect cock of her husband. The thick, juicy, slightly soft pole held the sopping hole into the inhuman sheath hidden under her midriff's skin well plugged. Despite the couple's draining encounter only hours before, David's magically augmented gargantuan member had reluctantly obeyed Barbara's deft fingers and had gained enough inches and solidity to be inserted into her from behind again, granting her the final wish of falling asleep while being joined as intimately as lovers could hope to be. Tomorrow morning insatiable Menena would force David to become her personal slave for only the gods knew how long and leave Barbara stuck in the poor hut to serve as Menena's very own human cow. Tonight the two young lovers were inseparable.

The wash of the waves filtered through Barbara's ears. Her forehead wrinkled. She twisted, still fast asleep. The weight of her anchors made of skin and flesh kept her ribcage locked in place and her mouth opened to release a faint moan of fear.

~

The black sand under Barbara's house-sized breasts turned wet as the incoming tide slowly rose. The border between dull dark sand and glistening darker water crept in rapidly from beyond the horizon. Barbara pulled and pushed desperately, but she was nothing but a tiny appendage to the twin orbs of her taut boobs that bore no semblance to anything remotely human or even bovine. They were two pumped bulging spheres of pent-up milk and strumming glands, and their weight measured in dozens of tons.

The water approached rapidly now. Barbara struggled harder, but the only thing she managed to do was to cause her skin and flesh all over her ribs to ache horribly. She stopped and leaned into the barely yielding wall of skin in front of her.

"I don't want to die," she whispered. Tears ran down her cheeks and dropped on the onset of her breasts. "Gods, I don't want to drown in this darkness, all alone."

A hand caressed her back. Its warm fingertips traced down along the groove of her spine. The slender fingers splayed wide and cupped Barbara's right buttock, squeezing it probingly.

"Mmh," replied a woman's throaty voice behind Barbara. "What are you prattling on about?"

Barbara craned her neck. Silver light filled her view. She saw the shining features and understood that the strange glowing woman wore the most friendly smile, and yet a single blink was enough that Barbara couldn't for the life of her remember what it actually looked like. The face was inches away, but it never registered in the young woman's mind, so she immediately recognized the creature for its lack of features.

"You! It's you again! Help me! Oh please, help me! The tide is coming! I'll drown! I'm so heavy, I can't — I'll sink —"

The non-face smiled wider. "Oh dear, Barbara. Drown? What gave you that idea? Look at you!" Barbara squeaked in surprise as the woman's other hand slapped the high-rising sphere in front of her. "Did you think you're giving milk? No, my dear, it's cream. Two mountains of the finest, sweetest cream just waiting to be tapped. Now tell me, does cream sink or swim, love?"

The silver woman walked along the circumference of Barbara's beached breasts. Her fingers never left the smooth skin as she disappeared behind the horizon of the spherical expanse of milk and flesh.

"So — so I'll float?" Barbara called after her.

Out of her sight, the wandering hands slipped on until they ran over her puffy areola. "Just the tiniest bit. You'll fly through the sea like a bird flies on the wind."

"Ah!" moaned Barbara. A curious, amply moistened finger wiggled into the big hole of her left teat. "Oh yes! Open it!" she begged. "Let me spend my cream —"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," was the reply from behind the wall of breast. "You're not ready yet, sweetheart. If you fear your milk won't be enough to keep you afloat, then I have just the thing for you." The finger tickled the tight, puckered valve at the root of Barbara's long nipple, then pulled out again as the seal began to quiver. Lips closed tightly around the trembling teat. Barbara heard a deep inhale through the nose, and then pressure built on her nipple.

"No — please, no! Oh please, mercy!"

The nipple opened eagerly. The creature's warm exhale squeezed into the ducts, forcing the milk back into Barbara's glands. Barbara felt the strain in her skin and its sudden yielding to the growing amount of pressurized air being forced into her breast. Within seconds, her areola bloated into a lewd, nub-covered pumpkin on top of the curvature of her mammary, and her growth spread on into the towering sphere of her left boob. Barbara tried hard to be scared, but the tons and tons of her breast flesh had a significant majority over her, and they very much enjoyed every new cubic inch they gained.

Another pair of hands grabbed her right nipple. Again she heard a wet smacking of lips around a finger, and then came the stretching of her other teat as it strained around the invading digit until the tip reached the other seal and a gentle stroke sent the crinkled ring muscle into preparing spasms.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me? I'm so huge already, I'm — uuuhh!" she moaned, slowly losing out to the avalanche of lustful mind-numbing sensations. Instead of a reply, her right breast received the same kiss of airy inflation, and Barbara trembled as horniness took away control of her legs. She sagged to her knees, held upright by the inverted funnels that connected her chest to her overwhelming breasts. The curved, smooth surface of her boobs filled her sight and the avalanche of flesh inched closer with every passing moment as their growth continued. Warmth exuded abundantly from the white wall that was merely half an arm's length from her face. Every second saw it lean more over Barbara.

"Gods — please, have mercy! It's going to crush me! I'm going to bury myself!" She pushed into the barely yielding spheres, two times, three times; then she held her hands well away as she realized that every punch and thrust sent rolling, massaging waves through the tissue, making her hornier and chipping away at her resolve, turning her thoughts into mush.

Barbara's tight skin squeaked as a tall, firm rod squeezed into the chasm of her cleavage from the far side. Reddish glow filtered through her flesh. A fist at the end of a toned arm popped from the crack, and finally the strange being with its body made of light and silver and a face that left no trace in Barbara's mind wiggled free from the confines of her cleavage. She spread her legs lightly, put her feet down to the left and right of Barbara's thighs and towered inches from the kneeling young woman. Though Barbara's eyes refused to reveal any details about the pillar of white that stood encased left and right and back by the mountains of Barbara's breasts, their sensitive skin told Barbara of the apparition's narrow waist, of a well-defined, muscular back, of proud shoulders and even prouder buttocks that pushed into the warm house-high cushions of Barbara's obscene boobs.

"But — those mouths — blowing into my teats —," stammered Barbara. Another throb of growth reduced the space between her breasts even more as her skin tightened further, and whatever she intended to say next ended up as "— mmmffft" as she dove head-first into the midriff of light. Yes, they kept on filling her, and despite her fear of being crushed, deep down on a primal level it kept on feeling so wonderful. The thing lay its slender hands on Barbara's shoulders and stroked her gently.

"Oh my darling, I can have as many bodies and mouths as I need to make you fulfill your destiny," smirked the stranger. "Come now, it's time. Oh, you're so huge, I'm curious how you'll manage! You made things not so easy for me, but let that be forgiven. Let my kiss enlighten you now."

"No — no, I don't want that! Gods, what are you doing to me?" Barbara managed to squeeze out through the corner of her mouth by turning her face away from the flat midriff. Silver fingers played in her hair and held her head to the warm, pleasingly smooth skin of the being's belly, almost smothering Barbara in her stroking hands.

"The most wonderful things, my love," purred the voluptuous apparition as she bowed down.

The silver woman ran her fingertips along Barbara's jaw. Barbara raised her head and rose towards her by instinct to prolong the gentle touch. Her mouth pouted stronger and she opened her puckered lips further the closer their faces inched. Behind the almost painfully bright glow of the apparition's features, Barbara thought to see a shade of laughter lines before their lips met and Barbara's eyes closed, overwhelmed by the glare and the rush of delight that flooded her through the connection of sensuous, soft flesh. Plump lips sucked gently on her own and drew her lower lip in between two rows of smooth sharp teeth. The creature's breath burned with horniness as she panted, "Oh my darling, the times we could've had! The things we could've done together! The secrets I could've taught you!" She convulsed, trapping Barbara's right leg between her own sturdy legs. Moisture dripped like molten silver down Barbara's thigh.

The being shivered all over and staggered lightly, then she regained her balance and straightened again.

"Haaaaah," she gasped. "Oh, thank you, lovely. Thank you so much. Now this here is what I must do, before we part to meet again one more time."

The woman's fingers made their way along Barbara's neck, ruffling her mane until those hands of light and warmth finally cupped the sides of her head and held her ears in the corner of thumb and forefinger. The apparition's disembodied voice rang in her head, and it whispered:




Siren Song Ch. 06



"You may not understand yet, but now it is time that you shall hear."

Barbara just barely heard the creaking of her skull before the agony of pointy fingernails burrowing into her head made her world explode into a rain of searing sparks.

~

"The pain!"

She jerked awake, wide-eyed with fear. The pain in her temples was back, together with the feeling of her head being caught in a vise, and it hurt stronger than ever before. David groaned as her elbow struck his short ribs, then he launched upright.

"Wwww... what? Barb! Is it milking time? You all right?"

"No! Not all right! The — the noise! That horrible, piercing noise! It's growing louder and louder!" Barbara clutched her head. This time it was not just something that hummed and whistled and pounded in her cranium. The sound had direction, and it came from outside the sea-facing window.

You shall hear —

"I can hear," she whispered to herself. "Dave! Dave, listen! You can hear it, too, right? I'm not going mad, am I? Tell me you can —"

"Relax, it was just a bad dr—"

And then he heard it, too. A faint chorus of unearthly vowels from many throats, a distant howling growing louder. The two young people shivered.

"It's rising from the ocean!" gasped David. "It can't be! Who could — merfolk! Gods, these must be merfolk! But — they're just a fairy tale!"

By sheer force of habit, Barbara tried to get up, but the weight of her breasts immediately threw her down on the bed again. The pain of overstretched skin made her groan loudly.

"Unngh! Gods! So — heavy. Ugh! Fairy tale? Just a fairy tale?! Do we not look like we're trapped in a cruel fairy tale? And those dreams — I — I'm missing something, something important! I — the dream, about water, and milk. And —"

She gnashed her teeth. "Godsdammit! This awful noise, it's — it's making it all fade away, I can't — I was so big, much bigger than this. Very much bigger than this! And there — there was — a — a thing, a woman! She spoke to me, but — not only in my dreams, I — I heard her before, I think, when we made love." Barbara pounded her fists against her forehead. "She told me to do something, something about — voices, and I think I did it, and then something strange happened, and now I — I can't remember!"

David struggled out of the bed and threw on his clothes. "We must get away from here. No matter where, just away! They'll come for us. They lure sailors to their death, they say. We mustn't listen to their call!"

He hesitated and looked at his wife. She faced him with her head turned over her shoulder, but her gaze went straight through him.

"Barbara?" David staggered forward and kneeled down on the bed. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, gently at first, then stronger as her eyes remained vacant. "Gods, Barbara, don't do that to me, wake up, please!"

"The pendant," she whispered.

"No! Barbara, no! Please, listen to me, I'm right here! Look at me!"

Barbara blinked. Her eyes focused on his. "Dave, please ... bring me the pendant. They're calling. I must go to them. Please, Dave."

"No, Barbara! You can't have the pendant! You'll grow on and on if you wear it. I can't let you do that!"

"I'll grow on and on with or without it, David. I grew with it around and with it gone, remember? I was just happier and stronger with it around. You were happier and stronger. If that's what it does, then together we'll be just barely strong enough to move me! And I need to go down to the beach. We need to talk to them! Bugger your wannabe witch, if this is those merfolks' doing, then it's them we need to beg and plead to!"

Come home, Barbara.

She turned her head towards the window and gazed out at the sea. The full moon stood high in the night sky, and the water looked like dancing silver. Filling the foreground, her mammaries were pale white hills, almost glowing with an inner light. They spilled far beyond her arms' reach now; their slightly flattened, round shapes even threatened to slip off Barbara's side of the wide bed. The sirens' song pulled at her soul. Ah, to lower herself into clear cool water, to swim in the weightlessness of the ocean, to be free again ...

People hunger for you —

"They need me," she whispered.

"They'll steal you away," sobbed David. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

"It never was ours to decide, David," she replied and stroked his hair. "They've made the choice for us. They've chosen me. That's why they sent us the pendant. Please, Dave. It's their magic that is changing me, and we can't fight it. It's stronger than me. Stronger than us."

We're all friends here —

"I'm not letting you go, Barbara." He slowly shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're ranting!"

"I'm not ranting, David," she calmly replied. "I've never been clearer in my head than now." Barbara slapped the sides of her breasts. The heavy bags quivered on as she exclaimed, "Look at me! I can't even drag myself around any more, and they don't know! They'll keep on calling to me, and I'll keep on growing! Do you really want me to end like this, even bigger than this, just two boobs filling the room, and me somewhere in the middle? Oh please, Dave, I need your help! You must bring me to them. Only in the ocean will I be able to move again. It's the only way we both can escape Menena's clutch, too. They'll take care of me, and you'll be free to run from her reach. And maybe ... you will come and visit me, every now and then? If they allow it?"

~

Chapter 20: Time's up

~

David ran his hand along the silky-smooth mountain of Barbara's left breast. "Please, Barbara. Don't make me do this."

"Haahhh—," Barbara shivered. "The gods!" Her breathing came faster, she panted fiercely. "Gods, it's — starting again!"

David felt the throbbing deep in the colossal mounds. "What is —"

"The heat! Harbinger — of milk!" She gnashed her teeth. "Milk first, and then the growth! I beg of you, David! Bring the pendant, we don't have time! Soon I'll be beyond immovable!" Her hands clenched into fists. "Gods, I — I try to hold it back, but — I don't know how — hurry!" Her whole body trembled in spasms. "D—David, pl—nnnnghh!"

Her skin stretched right under his fingertips as the ducts in Barbara's breasts filled up faster, plumping and dilating under the amassing liquid that her glands produced quicker with each passing moment. The flattened spheres rose as the bed groaned and creaked under the growing weight. "Oh the gods, the gods," she moaned, pinching her eyes. The straining feeling spread through her whole body. It teased and tickled all around her reddening vulva. Each and every piece of her body that ever had managed to bring her delight answered the call of her breasts' ever-swelling volume and plumped along. Barbara felt stuffed to the brim with horniness; she was a taut piece of skin barely able to contain the molten lust that filled every cubic inch. Her fingers dived through the engorging labia and deep into the sopping crevice between her legs. Warm, sticky liquid pulsed out and brought a moment's relief, enough for her to open her eyes again and to focus on David's chalk-white face by her side.

"Guuuuh — David, hurry, bring m—eeeeyyyy! — the pendant, bring it, t—then milk me, m—moooaaaaahhh!—milk me, so full — unnnnh! So fast, so full —!"

Her hips bucked, and her voice turned into a throaty panting accentuating the rapid squishing and slurping emanating from her groin. Barbara's mouth curved into an orgasmic smile. Milky-white lube squirted through her fingers and wetted the already damp bed between her legs. "Oaaahh yessss—"

~

David dashed towards the far end of the garden and stumbled to a halt. There was but a small crater where he remembered burying the pendant, and a trail of shreds along a narrow grove leading back towards the hut.

"The gods, it's come for us," he gulped, then he turned and followed the singed remains of the cloth he'd wrapped the disc into.

He found it leaning innocently against the lowest row of wall stones just beneath the bedroom window. David reached and hesitated.

"Look, I'm sorry," he whispered. "You've won. Please don't hurt us." His trembling fingers were within an inch of the blue pulsating stones, and he panted fearfully.

"Should I not?" breathed a woman's voice into his left ear. David froze and pinched shut his eyes. Blazing light filtered in reddish hues through his eyelids. He didn't even dare to turn his head or his gaze.

"Please," he repeated through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry. I tried what I could to save her."

The heat of burning lips seared his earlobe, even though they didn't touch his skin.

"And you think I didn't?" hissed the apparition.

The light was gone. Breathing in short gasps, David found himself kneeling and clutching the pendant. His skin was unharmed, and all of his fingers were still in place.

"David!" Barbara's desperate sobbing cry tore him from the aftershock. He struggled upright and ran towards the door.

~

"Barbara! What happened?" David realized the stupidity of his question the moment his eyes had adjusted to the near blackness of the bedroom. His wife no longer lay on her side, she knelt on the bed, desperately trying to coral her enchanted breasts. Even though David had been gone less than two minutes, the pale orbs had lost any hint of sag and now dominated the room, each almost four feet across and near perfectly spherical. Their payload of milk claimed every square inch of skin, and the struggling wrapper was stretched taut as far as it could distend.

Barbara turned her tears-drenched face to him. "So full," she sobbed. "B—bursting, let it out again, please!"

"How? I dare not —" He cramped up as blue sparks seared up his arm from the pendant in his grip. Pale, ghostly images filled his mind; of plump lips on erect nipples; of fingers digging into swollen teats that turned into transparent jelly to reveal puckered and trembling muscle rings deep inside the milk ducts, their cramped and tight valves relaxing at the caress of a fingertip's stroke.

"You better aim her nozzles at the window, fisherman," whispered a throaty voice into his ear.

He knelt down in front of the pair of white orbs and for a moment gazed up at the towering spheres. The areola were stretched flat and beyond dish size, and the nipples struggled to retain a semblance of their former shape, but the pull of straining skin reduced them to near flat palm-sized hills with an inch-wide hole at the tip. David wetted his index finger and slowly twisted it into the duct of Barbara's left mammary.

"Uh! G—gently, David — oh — oh yes!" panted his wife. Crinkled skin slipped by under his fingertip, until two knuckles deep in he touched a sphincter not unlike the cute, freshly-rinsed one between Barbara's ripe buttocks. And very much like that one, a few gentle tickles and strokes had it trembling and quivering.

"D—Dave — mmm—ooooh—ooaaah—haaaahh!"

Body-warm milk surrounded his finger and slowly forced it out of the tube.

— aim at the window, fisherman —

David leaned into his wife's cleavage. He held as much of the throbbing orb in his raised right arm's clutch as he could engird. With his ear against the warm wall of breast, the hissing rush of milk escaping from bloated flesh was as loud as Barbara's long-drawn howl of relief. The forceful white jet, almost two inches across, grabbed the parchment curtain and tore it away, dragging it along on the twenty yards arc of spraying milk that reached beyond the cliff and rained down into the ocean below.

Barbara leaned slightly sideways as her breasts' filling became uneven and her liberated one once again slowly succumbed to sag.

"The — other — one, too, David," she managed to stammer, only to feel his other forefinger as it made its way down her right breast's reluctant hole. "Yes — ye—iiiiiooaaah!" The white spout burst against the wall and showered the whole room with ricocheting thick drops until David managed to get his splayed fingers on her breast and squeeze and bend it far enough out of shape to vent the jet of pressurized milk through the window, too. The twin lines of liquid danced and twisted out into the night air, feeding a growing white circle of sweet milk floating on the salty ocean below.

~

Barbara's boobs shrank slowly. Together with the sinking pressure, the hissing milk fountains' reach grew shorter until they splattered down into the garden, turning the sun-baked earth into fertile mud. The yielding pull on Barbara's skin allowed for her areola to contract and regain their domed shape. Inside the now palm-sized concentric crinkles of darker skin, her nipples turned back into finger-long, peach-thick, coarse-skinned protrusions ripe for the picking. The white jets became thinner as the ducts' center hole shrank.

"Thank Heavens," moaned Barbara, cradling her womanly burdens and squeezing out as much of her nurturing nectar as she could. When she finally let go, her enchanted jugs were back to their still humungous size that the pounds upon pounds of glands and ducts demanded. David pinched her coarse nipples, and the valves deep down snapped shut, cutting the remaining thin white arcs off from one moment to the other. Barbara gulped, wetting her dry mouth, then she continued her exhausted panting as sweat ran down her face.

"The pendant, David," she stammered. "D—don't know how soon the growing will start now. I just h—hope I'll gain enough strength by then. We must get out of the hut and down to the beach before I'm just a pair of breast boulders."

Kneeling in front of his wife's promontory, David breathed heavily as he bent down and picked up from the floor the disc he'd cast aside. "Here. Barbara, it sp—"

The thin chain almost took off his fingertips as Barbara snatched it frantically from his clutch.

"—oke to m—eeouch! Barb!" He shook his hand and kneaded his fingers. "Barb, what the hell? I wasn't going to withhold it, y'know?" A sigh, then he continued, "There was — someone, like a woman of fire, and —"

David fell silent. Barbara didn't listen at all. With her eyes closed, she dragged the chain over her head and stuffed it into her cleavage until only the two thin silver lines remained. Folding her hands over the deep chasm, she swayed back and forth, whispering, "make me strong, make me strong."

David ran his forefingers along the white trail of milk dribbling down from the fat nipple of his wife's left breast and licked up the thick coating from his fingers. It tasted sweet beyond comparison, and for a moment he regretted pouring it out the window when he could've gorged himself on the gallons and gallons shooting out of his wife's generous breasts. Then he shook his head and grabbed his temples.

Gods, what am I thinking? She would've filled me beyond bursting!

"David?"

He looked up. Barbara had raised her head, and her eyes had lost the sick sheen of mindless urges and finally carried a human expression, one of worry and regret.

"David, I'm sorry. Are you alright? I — I think I'm good again. I'm listening now. And — the noise is gone. Their calling has stopped."

He rose to his knees and reached for her hands and arms, leaning into the soft yet resilient pillows.

"So, feeling any stronger yet?"

"No — not yet, but at least my skin does not hurt any more. David, maybe we can build a sling or a cradle, and if we put two branches over our shoulders and tie my milk bags to them, we could carry them between us. At least we'd get out of the hut, and then there's the wheelbarrow. Maybe it's sturdy enough, if we wrap them up? They'll hang over the sides for sure, but if they're in a tight wrapper —"

David jumped up. "I'll be back in a moment, dear."

~

I don't feel stronger, but I think they've grown tougher. Barbara frowned and went along on her knees, inching towards the head end of the bed and closer to her right breast. She ran her flat hands along the left mammary's top, dug her fingers into the yielding bag as deep as she could and dragged the half-filled orb after her. Her skin pleated but it didn't scream with the pain of imminent tearing. Barbara pulled with all her might, but her strength was just enough to send the sloshing pear slowly rolling across the bed.

She pulled harder, building momentum in the heavy bag until it bumped into her right milk tank. Barbara moaned as the shockwave quivered through her aroused flesh. And then her lecherous exhale turned into a high-pitched squeal as her right breast's center of weight canted over the edge of the bed and yanked her body forward by the skin spanning over her ribs.

The soft bag oozed down onto the floor. Barbara's stiff nipple was pushed back into the yielding gallons of glands, and moments later, her malleable left breast rolled after its sister. The young woman was dragged across the mattress by her own chest. She ended up with her hip still on the bed and her upper torso dancing on her own warm orbs like on an unquiet water bed of coming ages.

"Gods!" Barbara cradled the sloshing bags. "That wasn't what I hoped for! So I'm beyond ripping, but that's good for nothing if I'm too weak to move them!"

David barged into the room. "Barbara, there's no branch or pole strong enough to carry the weight! I looked everywhere. And the linen is too thin, too. I can tear it with my bare hands, and you're far heavier than that."

"The gods! How are we going to get me out of here? Dave, I'm so heavy, I —"

"Shh. One at a time, darling. Maybe we can shift one at a time, so we're going to place this here —"

He spread out a blanket on the bedroom floor by the side of Barbara's breast that was closest to the door. His hands gently rolled and pulled the pliable flesh until it rested on the coarse cloth.

"Mmmh," she moaned as she felt new rivulets of her overflowing lewdness making their way through her swollen, engorged labia. "Oh, your hands, you've got a way with your fingers digging into my breasts that's making my crotch spill over! Oh Dave, I'm — I'm so very horny again right now!"

"Maybe later, dear." He picked up the corners of the blanket and pulled with all his strength.

"Daaa—aaaveee?!" gasped Barbara as her left breast rode away with the coarse wool and she sank deeper into her widening cleavage, flailing her arms until she managed to touch the ground between her tits. Her mams were spread apart and the strain on her breastbone increased.

"Just tell me before it's unbearable so I can shift the other one after it," groaned David through clenched teeth.

Barbara's arms trembled. Her breasts quaked and quivered to each jolting of the blanket, and she moaned and panted on the edge of another climax. She gulped, fighting for control of her drooping jaw and her pouting lower lip to stammer words instead of senseless syllables of ecstasy.

"They're so squishy and pliable, we — we still need to wrap them up! David, bring your net! The new one, you said it's so incredibly strong! If we wrap my breasts up, and you get under them and I pull from above, then maybe we can carry them outside together, at least to the wheelbarrow!"

~

Barbara listened to his disappearing footsteps as she clambered from the bed, stumbling forward onto the twin pillows of her boobs. The awkward struggle finally had her kneeling against the pair of orbs, and every touch and rub and grab of the sensitive spheres heightened her lust and longing.

"Gods, at least it's not painful," she muttered down towards the silver disk. "Could do with a little less titillation, thank you very much." Barbara turned her head and sighed. "So now to gather myself up again from being spread out, and if I'm lucky, I'll be another foot closer to the door."




Siren Song Ch. 06



Inch by inch she pulled up her right breast, reaching into her own cleavage to grasp a fold of its humungous bulk from beneath and to drag it closer. The pendant jingled and jumped against her upper arms with every push and pull.

"You're not making this any easier, you bloody thing," groaned Barbara as she fought to pile her mammaries up another hand's width closer to the door. "Fat lot of good you are, y'silver piece of shit if you can't even get me upright. You're supposed to make me strong, aren't you? Raaaaahh!" Forcing one knee into her cleavage, stooping with her pair of milk sacks tying her to the floor, Barbara roared through clenched teeth, dug both splayed hands into her right breast and pulled the giant soft pear up until her leg was trapped in her cleavage. Every moment was a struggle against the overwhelming urge to just grab her soaked swollen strawberry of a clit and to ride herself mindlessly ragged on her own palm. "Maybe you even like this, seeing me trapped and milked, you sick fucker fuckity fuck!" cursed Barbara, spreading her legs and sagging down exhaustedly on her own beanbag-sized left breast. "Oh gods, so heavy!" she panted. "Can't move myself a single inch more."

"I'm back, love," gasped David, leaning against the door frame. After a short recovery, he pushed the bed frame away and helped Barbara down from her warm breast-saddle.

"We'll roll you backwards, then I'll spread out the net in front of you and you can roll your breasts over it," David explained as he leaned into his wife's boobs. Barbara put her haunches on the floor and leaned backwards. She shrieked as her round burdens picked up speed, sent her down on her padded buttocks and kept on rolling.

"Daviiiiii — mmmggmmm! Mmm—mmm! Gmmmm!" Her arms waved in panic from behind the wall of flesh, and her feet poked out beneath the quivering orbs. David hurriedly laid out the net, casting it over Barbara's pinned-down legs, jumped behind her and rolled the muffling avalanches off her buried body and onto the mesh.

"Gods, David! You could've told me before," she scolded him, struggling for air with a beet red face.

"Sorry, dear, I thought they'd roll a bit more sideways. Here, hold these two corners now, I'll try to pull the net together." He stroked the pale expanse of silky skin. "Now that's a catch if I ever saw one."

Barbara sighed and managed a wry grin. "Ain't a proper catch until you've dragged it to the shore."

~

"Unnngh," moaned Barbara. David lay face down before her, pushing and wiggling himself feet-first beneath the net that compressed her mountainous breasts into a tightly-wrapped package.

"Y—you sure you'll be able to get up on hands and knees? Mm—nnngh! The gods, all your kneading and quivering, I — I can barely hold on, I'm about to — to faint from all that lust," she stammered.

"Heavens, Barbara, keep it together! If you stumble, you'll break my back! Nnnnaaaah!" One by one, David pushed his elbows up into the jelly bag around his body, struggling to get his hand down on the floor. He arched his back and fought the weight of dozens of stone of enchanted breast until he managed to angle his legs and bring his knees in position.

"G—gods! B—Barbara, on the — uugh! — on the count of three! One — two — three!"

He stooped under the mountain of warm white flesh on his back, its flowing shape packed tightly into the straining net. The skin of Barbara's breasts bulged through every mesh, and David's head was red with effort. Barbara didn't fare much better. Her fingers were cramped into hooks. The net's thin fibers cut into the skin of her fingers as she pulled with all her strength, ignoring her arms' and lower back's muscles and vertebral discs screaming desperately. The four-legged creature of man and woman and mostly breasts swayed and staggered through the kitchen, squeezing its round, malleable boob-body through the door frames.

~

"Goodness, these fibers almost sliced up your breasts," groaned David, wiping the sweat from his brow while he caressed Barbara's colossal cans and rubbed the reddened traces of the net on his wife's taut, straining skin. The wheelbarrow creaked and groaned quietly, though its noises were muffled by the huge pile of tit flesh bulging over its sides.

David tied the rope girdle around his ragged tunic, then gently put a blanket around Barbara's shoulders. "There now, dear. That'll keep you warm. I'm sorry but we can't untie the net until you're safely down there lest your breast plop down left and right.

"Barbara?" he added as her silence dragged unusually long.

"D—David," she groaned, pinching her eyes and clutching the handles of the wheelbarrow so hard her knuckles shone through her skin. "The — noise, their howling — it's back, but it's different now, it's tearing my head apart!"

"I can't hear, dear. Not yet anyway, but — no, wait —" He frowned and gazed out onto the ocean beneath the cliffs. The waves rolled in, but nothing else moved down there.

"So loud," moaned Barbara. And then the sound hit David, like a hammer to the temples. He shuddered and slapped his hand against his right ear, and then he stumbled to his knees as his right leg gave in. "Why — do they do that —," he moaned through gnashed teeth.

A blue veil of light erupted from Barbara's cleavage. Her body surged forward, and she arched her spine.

"The pendant — my tits — quivering — about to grow again! Unnngh!" She panted faster. "It's — guuuuh—!" Her nipples twitched to erection. Barbara sensed every single gland as it began to tremble. The lobules bloated and fattened, and one by one, their shape bubbled into two glands where before there was only one. Barbara's skin strained around the multiplying volume. Not only was the army of her milk glands adding massive reinforcements to its ranks, the protective layers of fat around them put in overtime to keep their valuable treasures safe and padded as well. Gallons of nurturing milk, trapped in Barbara's swelling boobs, were finally put to use, fueling her wave of growth. Her breasts firmed up; two giant loafs of leavened dough slowly rising on the hay-cushioned, creaking wheelbarrow. Barbara just stood with her eyes closed and her legs slightly apart, while thick drops of lubricating juices kept seeping from her red, plumped labia.

"They're commanding the pendant! Stuffing me! Gods, Dave, they won't stop singing! They just won't!" She shook all over. "A—a—a—another p—p—p—p—pulse c—c—c—c—coming!"

Her breasts throbbed bigger so violently now, each bout of expansion made them slosh back and forth several times. Long runs appeared all over the net, crisscrossing as the meshes widened yet still held the rising orbs together.

Barbara screamed as the growing mountains swelled over the wheelbarrow's crossbar and started to roll forward, dragging her up off her toe tips. Dave barely managed to stop them, leaning heavily into the wall of flesh that threatened to bury him, gripping the huge nipples like handles.

"I've got you! I've got you!"

"N—n—n—no! M—m—m—m—milk!"

Her spasms stopped suddenly. She struggled for air, instinctively knowing this was just the calm before the storm. Barbara's fingers clawed into the taut expanse of her own skin, pulling herself higher to ease the pull on her ribs. Her feet dangled futilely above the ground. The voices in the distance changed their tune again, and heat welled up inside her giant orbs. The frantic sound of drums joined the ghostly howls.

"Dave! Get away from me! This one's going to be big! So much cream!"

"No! I'll milk you like last time!" he groaned, his fingers searching blindly for the holes in her teats. "Just need to touch you in there, and all will be —"

"You can't milk away a spring tide! Gods, they're bloating so quickly, they'll crush you! Get the hell out of the wa—aaaay!" she screamed as her breasts grew taut and her hardening nipples rose up on the ballooning areola. He felt the skin blowing up, spreading his fingers apart, pushing his hands back. Muttering a curse, he let go and jumped aside.

The wheelbarrow creaked under the immense weight. The axle finally gave in and snapped, the crossbar cracked away and the wheelbarrow turned into a launching ramp. The way down to the beach was free now. Barbara's breasts rolled forward and lifted her from her feet.

Trapped in the last remaining fibers of the net like a pair of two man-sized beach balls glued together, Barbara's breasts with a little Barbara in between tumbled down the last slope and out onto the flat, sandy beach. Each revolution saw her being dragged over the top of her own bosom, then slammed into the soft, warm sand, being overrun by her own breasts, then being dragged up along again. Each bump on the ground made the nipples blast another thick jet of milk around.

The last bump was the biggest of them all. She saw the boulder in her path, but there was nothing she could do to steer her weight-driven tumble. She could only hope she'd hit it with her softer parts first.

Which she did.

The net tore to shreds around her stretching boobs and the rebound of her rubbery flesh's impact into the unyielding barricade sent her flying and somersaulting over the rock and along the beach. She tumbled sideways, and her left boob came down so forcefully on her right one that both nipples blew out all their dammed milk at once. Dave saw the white gush washing grooves into the beach. The hypnotic drums stopped. Dead silence descended over the sand. It seemed nature itself had held its breath.

Racing down the path and across the beach, David feared for his wife's life. It very much looked like she had burst.

"Baaaarb!" he screamed, catching up with her limp figure hanging from the slightly deflated orbs.

"I'm — aaaalright. J-j-just d-d-dizzy...," she mumbled. Her eyes tried in vain to hold his worried gaze, but they rolled away time and again.

~

To be concluded in Part 7: No Other Way

Mermaids! What more can I say? I don't know if that was your main motivation to keep on dragging yourself through these piles of words, but at long last they're about to arrive, and boy/girl, are you going to get a load of slithering sirens in the next chapter!



Siren Song Ch. 07



Short and to the point: This is a Breast Expansion Fetish story. If B.E.'s not up your alley, then you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

Siren Song, Part 7 — No Other Way

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

~

First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2012-10-15

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to CoffeePilot for his time and patience.

~

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

Once upon a time ...

The year is 1185, the world is Altaerna, and the place is somewhere in the temperate climate where people are mostly pale and mostly stubborn.

A winter ago, a lithe and lissom young woman saved a handsome young fisherman from drowning. The fisherman's would-be fiance, headstrong cold-hearted not-so-young Menena, the town's mayor and wealthy shop owner, didn't take it lightly when her trusted maid Barbara and her well-equipped secret boy toy David fell for each other hard and fast despite being unable to join in carnal pleasures (on account of Barbara's nethers being a thimble and David being ... rather more than that).

Consumed by jealousy, Menena saw to it that David was banned from the town, with Menena maligning him whenever she could. Barbara was given the boot but still found a little lenience in Menena's eyes for the years of service, so the lithe blonde was allowed to spend market days in the side streets where she's now trying to sell for a living the fishes that David catches with his tiny boat and his worn nets. The outcast couple of twenty-somethings got secretly married and made it through their first year, living a life of privation in a tiny hut atop the cliffs, hours from the town.

Part 1:

Spring has returned. Going for a swim while waiting for her husband's return, Barbara hits upon a drifting net chock-full of fish while her other half David makes but a single lucky catch out at sea. Reunited, the young couple retreats into their favorite hideaway to have another go at their most pressing problem, their inability to consume their marriage properly. Still unable to succeed, they resort to each other's dexterity like the many times before.

As Barbara prepares lunch gutting the fish David brought, she discovers a valuable pendant in its belly. Putting it on, she — is woken by her husband, hours later. Not only has she developed quite the appetite for the unfamiliar fishes that the new net seems to attract, she also suddenly succeeds in devouring herculean meat (wink, wink). When David sets out to a bigger and more distant town in an effort to sell more of his catches, Barbara ends up doing a little self-exploration on a moonlit night. She also ends up with quite some more Barbara before the night is through. After a day spent in fear and despair, and lucky for her self-conscious mind, a) most of it has disappeared again by the time Dave returns, and b) David doesn't mind the surplus left on her at all.

As the next market day comes around, Barbara squeezes into her now ill-fitting old clothes and is about to go on a quest for answers about what has befallen her, and her first stop will be the town's healer and midwife. Alas, the market isn't over yet ...

Part 2:

Following Barbara's erroneously assuring visit to the town's midwife, Barbara and David indulge in Barbara's new voluptuousness and carnal hunger. As her ever-increasing desires begin to overwhelm David's abilities, he searches for a second opinion on the strange pendant and gets advice from a young, traveling, bad-tempered, dark-skinned dancing girl called Yrba who also happens to be witch. Meanwhile, back home alone, another outbreak of multiple expansion hits Barbara as her strange visions once again cross over into her reality. When she wakes the next morning, more than just her most eye-catching attributes have changed ...

Part 3:

After David relays his tale of the meeting with the witch, Barbara allows him to hide away the pendant. Barbara's worries about her husband's response to her increased voluptuousness prove to be unfounded. As they celebrate their reunion after the days of separation, some of the power fueling Barbara's transformation is passed on to her husband, enlarging his one already oversized attribute even further while shielding their minds from becoming suspicious.

With David away on his next trip to the city, Barbara attempts to better her standing with her former mistress — and it backfires in ways that the poor young woman never would've expected. Weak, drained and more chest-heavy than ever, she staggers home ...

Part 4:

Much to her horror, Barbara's body draws its own conclusion after her mammaries have been relieved of a bucketful of milk at her former mistress' hands, and it decides that a pair of massively swollen breasts capable of lactation by the gallon is the way to go. As Menena arrives the next morning, Barbara is helplessly chained to the kitchen table by her two humungous orbs brimming with milk. Menena discovers the enchanted pendant and decides on a whim that her favorite milk source isn't big enough yet. She ties up Barbara and leaves the helpless young woman exposed to an even bigger dose of the trinket's otherworldly powers.

David returns the next morning only to run into Menena. Tempers fly as the bossy woman realizes that her former toy boy will stay true to his wife no matter what ...

Part 5:

While Barbara remains trapped in the hut, her body rendered immobile by her colossal cans and her mind drifting into and out of strange visions, David tries to find a way to get her to the witch he so rashly infuriated, only to learn that Menena has taken steps to make sure her slave and her cow can't leave before her ultimatum runs out. As her lust and breasts grow, Barbara becomes more than willing to give herself up to her former mistress.

A pendant-induced afternoon nap leads to another vision, and when Barbara and David wake up at dawn, they learn that Barbara's breasts are not the only things susceptible to enlargement in the vicinity of the strange medallion. Endowed beyond belief by the pendant's powers and a slave to Barbara's horniness, David's reluctance doesn't last long until he gives in and services his wife deep into the night. As the couple drifts away into exhaustion and the moon rises over the ocean, the scene is set for another player about to enter the game ...

Part 6:

Barbara wakes to the sensation of new milk and impending growth in her gargantuan rack, and her last vision left her with the ability to hear the call of the sirens in the bay and a vague understanding of what has befallen her. With no choice but to give in, David reluctantly fetches the medallion. The couple learns that while its powers do grant resilience to the skin of Barbara's breasts, it doesn't offer enough strength to get her moving again. It's up to the couple to find a way to bring Barbara and her ever-swelling endowments down to the beach. Wheelbarrows collapse and nets tear as the growth of the young woman's breasts gets out of hand and sends her reeling along the steep path down the cliffs ...

~

Part 7: No Other Way

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"... but the arms of the ocean deliver me / Though the pressure's hard to take / it's the only way I can escape / it seems a heavy choice to make..." — Florence And The Machine, Never Let Me Go

~

Chapter 21: Beached

~

The moonlit night colored the crescent-shaped stretch of soft sand beneath the steep cliffs in hues of blue. Pale and full, the solitary companion of planet Altaerna slowly set towards the western horizon.

A handful of boulders dotted the beach near the cliffs and towards the wet sand where the waves licked gently along the shore. One of them stuck out. Its surface was smooth, rounded and almost white, in stark contrast to the dark colors of the jagged rocks around it. A woman lay prostrate and spread-eagled on the plinth that rose about a yard from the sand and had about two yards in diameter, and a man in a ragged tunic knelt by her side and held her hands.

"Feeling better now, Barbara?" he whispered and ran one hand across the round pedestal. Its surface yielded the faintest amount to his caress, for the flattened boulder under David's beloved wife was not hard rock. Barbara rested on her own, mind-blowingly engorged mammaries, hopelessly tied to the enchanted gallons of slowly throbbing flesh whose weight had sent her tumbling and crashing down the path that led from the couple's poor hut atop the cliff to the beach below.

"Still aching," groaned Barbara. "I think I'm still swelling bigger, it hasn't stopped. Uhhh! Nipples — getting harder, can feel them digging into the sand. Gods, David, it's just going on and on and on. I'll never be able to walk again, heavy and bloated as I am now." Her eyes focused on the water's edge, and she gulped. "Here they come."

~

Dark shadows moved in from the open sea, their undulating shapes darting along just beneath the surface. Like arrows, their triangular wakes all pointed to the spot where Barbara lay beached, panting from exhaustion and the numb after-pain of her violent impact.

The shallow waters gradually revealed the mermaids' writhing bodies. The tiny scales of their long fishtails reflected the moonlight. Some were a uniform shade of silver, others had bright and colorful patterns and streaks. The approaching line parted in the middle, and a solitary shape of brightly sparkling silver took the helm. It broke the surface in a shower of glittering droplets. The tall, curvy female figure rose high on her whipping fish tail, turned her head and sent her platinum-white mane flying in a wide arc, spraying a veil of water. For a moment, Barbara forgot all of her pains and worries and just stared.

The moonlight unveiled every nook and cranny of the pale-skinned, curvy woman soaring high over the surf; it highlighted the gradual change from the slime-glossy muscular fish tail with its surface of metallic scales into the semblance of knees and a pair of fused thighs, widening towards the human-like wet skin barely able to contain her fertile, all-too-alluring womanly hips. Between her hips, a seashell held by thin chains over the fold at her plump mound of venus failed its purpose. As the palm-sized plate followed inertia, it gave way for a brief flash of a pair of impressively long, hairless, well-padded outer labia. Impressively long was also her curling and coiling tail that tapered out five yards from her hips until it spread out into a yard-wide fin of almost clear skin, fortified by elastic fishbones. The fin's tips ended in long strands that floated in her motions' wake.

Above the waist, her human body was Menena's mirror image. Almost mirror image, Barbara recognized. This mermaid was beyond full in the chest, yet not an inch of sag affected her pair of pumped up pumpkins, round and proud and each bigger than the creature's head. The areola in the orbs' centers were palm-sized mounds of their own, crowned by nipples like strawberries. Golden chains jingled around the firm spheres, decorating their shape yet hiding nothing. Barbara's eyes jumped higher to the friendly smiling face under the delicate silver tiara indicating that she was of higher rank than her entourage. A little wear and wrinkles in the corners of the eyes and full lips said mother, and all the rest of her well-padded curves moaned loudly ooh mama!

"Hail to the Feeder!" proclaimed the mermaid queen with husky, slightly gargling voice as she slowly descended into the water again, her arms out in greeting towards Barbara, who blinked and immediately felt the ungodly weight of her whale rack again.

"Hail to the Feeder," the congregation whispered, their voices filled with hushed adoration.

After a moment's pause, the queen advanced slowly into the shallow shore. Her face with pronounced cheekbones and the slightly wide nose took on a puzzled expression, and she raised her shoulders and angled her arms questioningly.

"Errr — forgive us for asking, your Feedness, but why aren't you in the water yet?"

She squinted, struggling with her sea-born sight dealing badly with the air. Then her eyes grew big, her tail flapped distractedly and got stuck on the sand, she lost her regal posture and splashed undignifiedly face down into the shallow water, bouncing on her plenteous mammaries. Steadying herself and raising her head, she brushed her tangled hair from her eyes and gasped, "— All the Gods and giant clams! You're massive!"

~

"You!" exclaimed Barbara, staring at the mermaid queen's round face. "It's you! You spoke to me in my dreams! So you made me into this!"

"Did not," the voluptuous apparition protested indignantly, propping herself up higher from her elbows and sitting back onto a coil of her own tail. Her flattened pillows turned into bouncing dangling bells as she quickly brushed away the sand that clung to her wet skin.

"I heard your voice! You called to me! Only you looked all silver and shiny, but don't you deny it! You did this!" Barbara insisted, gesticulating at herself.

"If I may, my queen?" the lithe young mermaid surfacing and sidling up to the distinguished fish woman's side interjected meekly. Thin rivulets fell from her chin and her button nose on her firm breasts as she kept her eyes down and ran her webbed fingers through her soaked, short, emerald-green hair, flattening it against her head. As she rose higher, the water revealed slightly flared hips and juicy buttocks.

The queen spun around on her tail and put her hands to her hips, her motions all that of an angry attacking snake. Her target jerked back in surprise and fear.

"Yes, you may, Anosthea," hissed the buxom leader, slowly propelling herself higher as the water around her whipping tail foamed up. Her finger pointed first at Barbara, then shot straight at the new arrival's chest that seemed flat against the abundance proudly presented by the rest of the mermaids. "I never ssssssaw her before!" sibilated the towering woman. "So why does she claim I talked to her? Why is she so big? The new feeder's supposed to be more like," her hands cupped and juggled two invisible watermelons, "— and not like," she raised her eyebrows and nodded sideways towards the pale orbs dwarfing Barbara's splayed body, "— that. Care to explain thisss, witch?"

The queen's icy glare made the fish girl squirm like a worm on a hook. Her eyes darted anywhere but to the queen's frowning face, and her faintly tiger-striped tail coiled up like a wounded eel.

"I — I —," she stuttered as she slowly paddled backwards, fidgeting with her fingers before her chest, until she let her hands fall to her side. Her shoulders sagged and she hung her head. "I can't. Sorry. It's wrong. It's all wrong. It should've never — it's the pendant, is my guess. I mean, why she recognizes you. Sometimes magic — especially the complicated kind — it may be a bit alive. Just a tiny bit. Maybe it learned — it might be just some — some reflection of you that got stuck inside while it's been in the throne room. Maybe. Or it took you as a template. Orunatia never taught me the finer things about all that Holy Feeder's succession stuff."

She clenched her fists and, desperation in her oval face with the almond eyes, raised her head to her queen towering over her.

"I'm just the apprentice, for crying out loud! It's not my fault Oru went and got herself killed diving into the black abyss before she could tell me! All she told me was that she'd found that water-crazy girl and how she was the Chosen One, so I just stuffed that one big fish with the jewel and threw it aboard her companion's boat when he wasn't looking, and she found the pendant, and she ate all the food we sent her, and we did the singing and the drumming and all the rituals, so it should've been just fine!"

"Oh yes, the singing! Oh, that was beautiful!" One of the guardians inhaled deeply. Her chest bulged, and she extended her arms.

All of a sudden, Barbara's head was about to explode. The pain felt like an arrow through her temples, and she tried to plug her ears to the infernal screeching. Deep in her chest, the glands and muscles began to quiver again.

"Will you keep your gills shut!" hissed Anosthea over her shoulder, shutting up the blushing guardian.

"Oh the gods," moaned Barbara, slowly collecting herself after the mind-numbing aural assault. "So that was what made my skull almost burst for all those weeks, and it's so much worse up close!"

"Hey now, our voices are glorious," the singer protested quietly.

"Er, yes, well, let's admit we're better underwater," sighed Anosthea. "Like I said, we did the singing, and we fed her. I saw her before, swimming along over our heads, she was nothing but a slim snake! She needed all the food we could send her! I don't know what she did to become a beached whale. I'm just saying, about the only way for," she gesticulated towards Barbara, "that to happen would be if someone stuffed herself from the Chosen's food and listened to the sirens' song but didn't wear —"

Anosthea stopped mid-sentence and raised her hands halfway to her mouth. The mermaid's head slowly turned to the breathtaking pair of breasts with a dab of Barbara on top. Her eyes grew big with bewilderment.

"You did not by any chance take the pendant off, did you?" she asked incredulously.

"Did not take it off? I hardly ever wore that evil thing!" Barbara yelled back.

"What?" Anosthea threw her arms at the helpless naked woman. "Hardly ever — and, and evil? — the what now? It's a beautiful pendant! It's totally smooth, with the best chain I could pilfer from the wrecks, and it's got the blue stones of strength, and the silver that never ages, and it even has a feel-good hex on it! And that awfully complicated calming one that kept you from going bonkers over your changes! And the avatar to console you and the feeder hex that kept you from gnawing the meat from your husband's bones! The days I spent, trying to get that bugger right, what with all that magical junk squeezed into it! Why would anyone ever take it off? Goodness and all the storms of the sea! Growing these two whales without the pendant, you're lucky that your mind hasn't settled from your head into your udders! What is it that's wrong with you dirtwalkers? Should I have picked a smelly lump of rotten umbra to hang around your neck? Would that've worked better? I — ah — guh! — Aaaugh!" Her exclamations ended in unarticulated gasps and angry shrieks, and she circled on the spot and ruffled her short wet hair in desperation until the bristles made her head look like a very big and very green sea urchin.

"I — I'm sorry! How could I have know —," Barbara started, then her voice turned into single wail, "Ineverwantedanyofthis! Whydidyoudothistome —"

"Whu—?" Anosthea stopped her circling, crossed her arms before her chest and turned her back on Barbara, talking over her shrugging shoulder with her nose high in the air. "Hey now, it wasn't me who showed up day after day, no matter if it was sun or rain or summer or winter, paddling above our heads all naked and frolicking about like you're ocean-born. It really wasn't much of a surprise that Orunatia pointed at you and said, 'she's just the right one, looks like she'd love to stay in the water forever anyway.' There. I just do what I'm told. Happy now?"




Siren Song Ch. 07



"That's it?" gasped Barbara, wiping her tears away with her lower arm. "You've ruined my love, my life, my everything, just because I liked to go for a swim?!"

"Oh really?" Anosthea huffed out. "You listen now, you ungra—mmmmfft!?"

~

"Water of the gods!" The queen held her apprentice witch by the shoulders, shook her head in histrionic despair and took her muffling hand off Anosthea's mouth again before she turned to Barbara. She quickly adjusted the thin ring of her tiara that struggled to maintain the center part of her mane, then held up her splayed fingers. "Now let us all calm down for a moment. No need to debate this tonight, it's moot anyway now that you're like — errr, like this."

Her voice turned into the sweetest honey. "Come to me, my dear," she breathed with her fingers beckoning. "Come to us, quickly, you are far beyond your time. Let the hands of the water carry you, there's no one too big for their gentle touch!"

Barbara struggled towards the waterline, floundering and clawing at the wet sand. The weight of her chest held her in place. All across her ribs, the skin of her breasts strained; she even tilted forward a bit, but the massive orbs of glands and milk budged not an inch and pulled her back in place the very moment she stopped pushing.

"I — I can't —," she sobbed. "Can't lift them, can't shift them. Too heavy. Can't you give me a hand? Anyone?"

Anosthea scratched her chin. "It's dry land! I could crawl there, but —"

The mermaid queen slapped the young witch over the back of her head. "Crawl? Anosthea! Really! What's with the stalling? I don't care if it's awkward for you in front of us, you go get yourself a pair of legs again and roll her into the sea!"

"Ouch! M—my queen, I had but two of the vials left over from Orunatia's stashes, they're empty now, I can't change any more! Maybe if —" Anosthea snatched a trident from the guardian mermaid by her side and held it out to Barbara. The girl's desperately groping fingers missed it by more than a dozen yards. She slumped down on her wobbling pillows and sighed.

"That's your best idea?! What kind of a plan is that? Do you want me to wait for the tide now?"

"Sorry!" Anosthea squinted again. "Sort of hard to make out distances, what with all that air. Oh. Missed by a mile. Oh my. That means you're even bigger?! Gods, how are we — anyone got a length of rope? Anyone?"

"Oh great. I've been bewitched by the mermaid village idiots," sighed Barbara and let her face fall into her enormous cleavage.

She gasped and reared her head. The all-too-familiar trembling and gurgling in her chest had started anew. Shivers ran in waves across her skin.

"You better hurry! I think my girls skipped the milk part and are about to swell again!"

Anosthea moved her jaw mutely a few times, her eyes darting as she pondered. Her hand flew up and covered her mouth.

"Oh — oh, that's not good," she whispered, then she continued louder, "That's not good at all! That's too soon! Too big! All that weight stacking up on top, it'll make your breasts' lower parts burst open — ewwww! We need you floating in the water! Right now!" She spun around and dashed up and down the line of mermaids. "Hasn't anyone thought about bringing anything but all this ceremonial crap?"

"You're telling me I'll — my tits will tear open if I don't get into the water soon?" Barbara struggled harder. "But — I can't! I'm just not strong enough — "

Barbara tried to look over her shoulder. "Maybe — David, please, roll me into the sea — Dave?"

He stood slack-jawed, rooted to the spot like he had been frozen from the moment the mermaids had surfaced, his eyes staring blankly, his arms dangling from hanging shoulders.

"Oh dear," mumbled the queen, fingers raised to her lips. "The curse of the mermaids. I fear we broke him. All the blood went into his trousers, his mind's numb."

~

"David! David, snap out of it, you've got to roll me into the water!"

Barbara's husband stood in the dawn's twilight, lips curved into a dreamy smile, his body swaying gently.

"Please, David, you must — David! The hells of Herato, David! Listen!" Barbara's voice toppled, a little spit dangling down her lower lip. She tore her hair in desperation. "David, why won't you — please, David — Dai—hai—hai—viiiid —" Her breaking voice descended into sobs.

"It's not his fault. He can't hear you, y'know?" Anosthea called out to her as calmly as she could.

"Why did you do that to him? I need my husband's help! Release him from your enchantment, this instant!" begged Barbara.

"You don't understand," the queen declared haughtily. "This enchantment, it's not ours to weave or unweave. It's our fiery moans —"

"Pheromones," coughed Anosthea under her breath.

"— Yes, as I said, the fear o' mo— of ... of something or other," the queen repeated, glancing angrily at her witch. "It is —"

"— our smell," Anosthea piped up again. "Something in our smell. Makes sailors go bonkers with a raging hard-on." Her eyes glazed over a bit as she continued, "Makes for awesome screws, too. Gods, what screws! Hours on end!" She stifled her giggling, gulped and put her splayed fingers on the onset of her cleavage. "Uh, r—right. Err, most of the time, they turn back to normal afterwards. Mind you, they invariably end up hooked, diving after us until they drown." The young witch scratched her pointy chin. "Bit embarrassing, honestly. Never learned what's with that." She shrugged. "Anyway, it doesn't do a thing to dirtwalker women, so you do not need to be afraid."

"Yessss, thhhhank you for that edifying speech, dear," sibilated the queen. "Very helpful to know why he's of no use. And just how do we get our precious Feeder into the water now?"

~

Barbara felt her bosom quiver, then her fist-sized nipples, buried under the heavy globes, scraped painfully through the rough sand. Her sensitive skin reported every single grain that was shifted towards the elevated rim of the bowl that her growing mammaries created as their expansion from the center of Barbara's cleavage slowly dug them deeper into the beach. She struggled, pushing her feet into the sand, but the perfect fit of the hollow against her yard-high breasts held her trapped more snugly than the best hand-fitted bustier ever could.

"David! Still growing! I'm stuck! My skin's getting tight! Queen! Witch! Do something, I can't hold on much longer!"

"Err — y—you know, you could call him to you," Anosthea yelled in a flash of inspiration. "You've got a bit of a mermaid in you now, so you could do the sing-song voice thing, then he could, heh, do you really good, then he'd be right in his mind again." She blushed and lowered her hands after realizing what kind of gesture she'd just performed with her lower arm and her fist. Anosthea embarrassedly ran her right hand up and down her left arm while she added, quieter and more to herself, "Until the whole drowning thing, that is."

Barbara's eyes narrowed. "I heard you well the first time, you green-haired witch! Do you really think I'll damn my husband to drowning just to save myself?"

"I'm sorry! It's not like he'll listen to our voices now that he's had yours in his head for weeks," Anosthea replied before she recoiled from Barbara's angry gaze. "What now? You haven't noticed that either? — Why are you l—looking at me like that?" Avoiding Barbara's flaming stare, the mermaid gulped and muttered under her breath, "Corals of the Abyss, am I ever so glad you're not exactly mobile right now."

Anosthea tapped her fingertips together while she mumbled a bit louder, "Uh, well, your Feedness, we could — maybe — but he'd need to be really close, and even then — well, he'd certainly not die from drowning, y'know, if it's any consola—"

Slap.

"Ouch! Hey! My queen, now this is uncalled for," Anosthea complained, rubbing the back of her head.

The queen leaned in on her. "You can't consider suggesting that," she whispered, teeth bared. "He's a — a he! He couldn't begin to survive it."

"She can't begin to survive the next hour, not on dry land," Anosthea replied meekly, whispering back as she put her head near the queen's. "It's the only shot we have; I don't see what else —"

"Oi! You two!" yelled Barbara, putting her hands to her hips. Her defiant akimbo stance would've looked much more impressive if she weren't still laying face down on her own breasts. "So I am this feeder thing, right? I am holy to you, right? Right?! So you'll tell me what you're whispering about, out loud and right now!"

"Your Feedness —"

Barbara's forefinger pointed at the queen. "You shut it, your Highness!"

The queen's eyes bugged. Her mouth opened into a carp-like gape, but not a word came out as she stared in surprise, her mind stuck in the 'she didn't just' phase.

I just told the queen of mermaids off, Barbara realized, too. Oh the gods, what — hey now! What the blazes do I have to lose? Her forehead curled. Barbara swung her arm around and aimed her finger at the surprised Anosthea. The young mermaid gazed left and right, then she pointed with both hands at herself and raised her eyebrows as her mouth formed a gaping O that rivaled the ongoing blank gaze of the queen.

"Yes, you!" nodded Barbara. "You look too puzzled to lie and too flat to not be smart! So tell me what's with the calling and the drowning and that maybe we could thing! Come closer!"

~

"— And that's that," Anosthea ended her description and turned her head away from Barbara's pained face. The mermaid lay beached only a couple of feet from Barbara's bulging bosoms. The sand around her was covered in her hands' prints and the groves dug by her tail where she'd arduously dragged herself out towards the bloated girl by bobbing backwards, lifting herself up from sitting on the sand, then swinging her sizable buttocks through the gate of her arms, foot by troublesome foot. The intricate pattern of the tiny scales of her slick tail was all but covered in grains. She raised her eyebrows. "Sorry, there's no other way. Please, can I wiggle back into the water now? My fish skin is already itching from all this dry sand!" Her face fell, and she looked back over her shoulder at Barbara. "And — do you really think I'm flat?" Anosthea cupped her firm apples and gently pinched her tiny nipples between fore and middle finger. "I mean, I know it's not as much as the others have, but they're really sensitive, y'know?"

Barbara lowered her head and stared at the sand in front of her. "Flat is better than this here now," she sighed. "I didn't mean to be mean to you. I'd be happy to have a nice chest like yours, right now."

"The Feeder likes my breasts!" beamed Anosthea. "Oh my, your Feedness — I'm — oouueee!" she squeaked, slapping her hands before her mouth. Her tail started coiling frantically and she bobbed towards the surf on her hands and butt, leaving a chain of ass prints on the beach. She paused and pointed at Barbara. "I — I've got an idea, maybe it'll help! But go ahead with the plan anyway, better safe than sorry!"

Splooosh.

Her sleek body disappeared under the waves.

~

"Day—vey," Barbara fluted gently. A shudder went through his whole posture. "Davey-darling, come to me."

His left leg moved forward.

"Come and mount your mare," she whistled.

He shambled on, his eyes empty, head canted to the right, his arms swinging devoid of strength.

"Dun—da—deee—da—dun—dun—doo," Barbara improvised desperately. Her husband's walk became steadier.

"Come, my love, come and take me," she sang throatily as the and-I-mean-it vibes grew stronger in her chest. Dave jerked awake. He groaned as his swelling dick struggled against the confines of his garments.

"Barbara," he moaned. "Oh Barbara, I can't bear this much longer!"

"You're telling me! So come and ride me! Come, I'm wide and waiting!" She spread her legs and pulled up her knees until she kneeled in a perfect split, her legs resting high on the warm, bloated pillows of her breasts. Her moisture seeped down her already engorged labia and dripped into the yard-high crevice of her cleavage. She heard the drop of David's belt as it hit the sand.

"Are those — mermaids?" he gasped.

"Never mind them now! It's all a curse, and the only way to free us both is for you to fuck me like never before!" she yelled, digging her fingers into the pillows of her own breasts to pull herself forward. She lifted her buttocks higher while eagerly waiting for the delicious dilating of her slobbering pussy at the hand of the red swollen peach of David's glans.

"Mermaids, Barbara," he insisted nervously from the corner of his mouth but kept on moving towards his wife like drawn by strings.

"Dun—dun, dun—dun, dun—dun," Barbara intoned, panting heavily. David moaned and tore at his tunic as he felt his rod stretching and hardening. He needed both hands to free it from the prison of his clothes until his swollen cock finally sprung free, sixteen inches curving slightly upwards, veins pulsing visibly to his racing heartbeat. The precum had soaked the linen of his rough undergarments and now gave him a slightly chilly sensation as it glistened all over the head that already had shed the foreskin.

"Will you look at that," a mermaid whispered in awe, staring beyond Barbara and licking her lips. "Now that," she continued, her voice a hushed gargle, "that is a man I could go landside for. Oh the gods, look at the size! I'm — I'm running out!"

Barbara felt red-hot jealousy welling in her stomach, then the silky tip of Dave's engorged pole entered her. As the long hollow muscle of her mermaid womb distended around his invading flesh, the silly notion of anger dissolved in her juices boiling over.

"Mmmmh—!" another mermaid gasped. "Oh he could come and spear me any time!" Her fingers sneaked behind the plate shielding her crotch from sight. She jerked when her neighbor's hands felt up her luscious rear.

"I know," another one replied. "I'm so wet and slimy for him now; even my tail feels like dry skin! Oh I would live in a desert in a barrel for him, just to — oh the gods, he's sliding in, all the way in, on the first stroke! Look at that! So long! So thick! Can you can feel it, too — oooh!"

"Yes, he's in her, so deep!" a third one joined in. Her agile tail wrapped around the two bodies, and she squeezed them close. Fingers brushed over her bare hips, and her arms drew the three narrow waists together. "I can't stand to just watch!"

The shallow waters gushed up as their entwined shapes collapsed. Silvery tails sparkled in the morning light, and more of the slinky bodies homed in on the three writhing shapes.

~

The mermaids were but a moaning heap of curled-up bodies, of slick muscular tails snaking around naked hips, of faces buried in crotches and hands clutching bulging buttocks, of naked skin coated with copious lube and twitching trunks squeezing and sliding between ample breasts. Half-closed eyes gazed empty into the dawn sky or fixated longingly the man and his wobbling, bulging wife before him as he rode her from behind, driving in and out of her to an accelerating beat.

"Look at her! Look at him! Look at the power her milk gave to him!" moaned one before another's finger snaked into the corner of her mouth. She pouted her lips and sucked on it while her tongue coiled around the digit and lubed it up.

"Just think — mmmghh! — Think what her milk will make of us!" panted a raven-haired, green-skinned mermaid, clutching to her midriff a blond head that only replied, "Mmmffff!" while webbed hands with claw-like fingertips clutched her ass harder and cut with just the right amount of pain into her skin.

"Yes, oh yes, ride her!" The queen's voice echoed over the beach. "Ride her deep with your whale cock and bloat her like a jellyfish! Deee—eeep!" Her voice toppled. She arched her back, her hands alternating between kneading her reddened mammaries and clutching the oblong bulge on her belly where one of her guards' arms stretched her robust skin from the inside. As David grabbed his wife's hips and clung to her, implanting his seed all the way into Barbara's flexing, milking cave, the mermaid queen hung trembling and gasping, impaled on her own pillar of lust, never taking her eyes off the couple on the beach.

~

"Oh Barbara," moaned Dave, still halfway burrowed in the milking grip of her dripping vagina. His hands caressed her back and shoulders. "Barbara, I'll never leave you, I'll swim to the ends of the world and down the deepest seas after you, I'll — aaagghh!"

He broke to his knees and grasped at the finger-long thorn that stuck high in his shoulder.

"Gods, B—Barbara, what did you do that for, I — I —," he stuttered.

"It's the only way!" wailed his wife. "Oh Dave, I can't let you drown! You mustn't come after me!"

He shook his head mutely. Dave's mouth stood wide open, and his eyes were bereft of understanding.

"It'll heal! Dave, there's a potion in the thorn, it'll cure you from following me, and the wound will heal!"

"B — burning," he stammered as his face grew pale, then he keeled over backwards.

Barbara gnashed her teeth and pinched her eyes tightly. "And if it kills you instead, I'll stay and burst by your side," she whispered, tears of milk streaming over her face.

~

Shluurgh.

"Unnngh," moaned the mermaid queen. She caressed the cheek of her exhausted playmate. "Thank you, dear. Your queen approves of your services." Swaying slightly, she straightened her body and rose, overlooking the beach. "Yes, that really took the tension out of it," the queen smacked delightedly, rearranging the flimsy decoration over her nethers. "And look, your Feedness!" She pointed past Barbara to where David slowly moved again. He raised his left hand and covered his forehead.

"Oh the gods, my head — and shoulder —," he moaned. His hand trembled as he took a two-fingered hold of the black needle in his flesh and slowly pulled it out.

"See? He's fine! Here, catch!" echoed Anosthea's voice across the beach. A green, slim, slippery tentacle whipped across Barbara's back and slipped down along the semi-circle of her swollen, yard-high breasts. She screamed and jerked in revulsion and surprise.

"Oh what now?" shrugged the young witch, rising on her tail at the edge of the surf and holding the other end of the green rope in her hands. "It's just seaweed! Long and thick and strong like you obviously like it," she added. "So just grab it, and we'll pull you into the water!"

~

"Ready!" Barbara's fingers closed around the rope, and she wound it around her wrists. The strand tightened and rose from the sand. Out in the surf, the water foamed and boiled around the whipping tails of the cluster of mermaids.

"Pull, you knot of oozing eels!" Anosthea's voice echoed back from the cliffs. "You've had your fun, now work!"

"Gaaaah!" groaned Barbara as her arms threatened to be ripped from their sockets. She canted forward. Her breasts rolled along, flattening the rim of sand until they reached a new equilibrium. Barbara's head was inches from the beach.

"Not — enough," she moaned. "Maybe —"

"So you must get into the water," stated a slightly shaken voice behind her. Two warm hands grabbed Barbara's buttocks and pushed. She rolled about a few inches more. David groaned and panted, leaning heavily into his wife's breasts while clutching her round, yielding ass cheeks with his strong fingers.




Siren Song Ch. 07



"Together now!" he moaned. The green rope, leaves still dangling down like wet dresses from a clothesline, sang and groaned as it stretched slowly.

Bang!

The mermaids disappeared underwater in a tangled heap as the seaweed tore in two. The other half slapped into Barbara's face, wet and covered in sand. She spat out and flailed her arms helplessly as she rolled back, her motion only ever so slightly slowed as David tried his best to hold her canted forward. In the end, he had to step back to save his feet and legs from ending up trapped under Barbara's pair of flesh orbs.

Barbara sagged down and sighed. "If only I were a bit stronger—"

She reared. "Stronger!"

Where is your pendant, Barbara?

Her hands patted over the blank skin beneath her neck.

"The pendant! It's gone! I lost it! Somewhere along the tumble, I lost it! David, stop groping my ass! Find the pendant!"

~

"Find the pendant, find the pendant! If only that accursed thing never had shown up on our doorstep," David muttered, brushing his fingers through the disturbed sand while he crawled on hands and knees along the markings of Barbara's tumble.

The thin chain glittered near the edge of a deep puddle of milk. His fingertips traced the smooth thread until he ran against cold metal. He wiped the sticky, milk-soaked sand from the silvery badge and staggered over to his wife.

"Finally! Hurry, give it to me, give it —," she pleaded.

He held it out to her on his palm, his head hanging.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It must've struck that last boulder."

The metal disc was bent out of shape. Deep scratches marred the jewel, and more than half of the tiny blue stones were gone from their sockets. The big blue stone in the center flickered only dully. Even the silver shine was rusted. Black veins of corrosion spread from the tears and dents in the outer rim, their breadth growing right under Barbara's eyes.

"Thank you, David," she whispered. "It's not your fault. Give it to me —"

"Wait, wait!" Anosthea called out from the water's edge, struggling to get out of the pile of entangled fish women around her. "Is it unblemished? Because, if it's not, you better —" The mermaid squinted. As the world grew darker before her eyes, the glow of magic became more pronounced. Ethereal light dripped like glowing blood from the single bright dot that was the medallion.

"Don't take it!" she squealed.

~

"Don't take it, heavens and all the waters of the five oceans!" hollered Anosthea, desperately clawing at the sand in the surf, propelling her body higher onto the dry ground. Here her motions, while graceful in her natural element, were but the thrashing of a beheaded snake. "Your Feedness, it's broken — it's weak, it's bleeding, maybe it's angry, I don't know — oh please no!"

David hesitated and was just about to pull his hand back from Barbara's fingers. "Dear, maybe we should listen —"

Barbara kicked against the sand and launched herself forward, and before her overstretched skin dragged her back onto her bloated pillows, her fingers clamped around the contorted piece of jewelry and snatched it from Dave's hand.

"I listened to her song before, and look at me now!" she hissed while her wobbling rest slowly calmed down again. "Besides, it's not her last chance, it's mine. Can they get me to the waterline? Can you?"

He shook his head slowly.

"I don't blame you, David," she said softly. "Know this, no matter what happens now."

She raised the warped pendant to her lips.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, just one last time. Just once more, silver woman. Make —"

The pale, transparent white ghost of a kneeling woman wavered in front of her. The apparition raised its head, and just for the briefest moment Barbara recognized a pained yet friendly smile. Trembling, ethereal fingertips brushed against the back of her hand, and the creature was gone.

Heat seared through Barbara's arm. It spread through her body, and her skin tautened as a layer of thin muscles spread under it. Her legs twitched.

"— me —"

Her knees dug into her cleavage and spread the sweat-slippery skin apart. As Barbara's body righted, she sank deeper into the chasm of her own flesh until she felt the sand under her soles again. Barbara kept one hand wrapped tightly around the glowing stone and put the other down on her thighs, splayed her fingers wide and pushed.

"— strong!"

Barbara stood straight. Her breasts still hung down to the ground, but her skin held. She carefully put one foot before the other in between her cleavage as she stepped forward, forcing her legs through the sensitive crevice of her mammaries. As she made her way towards the waterline step by tiny strenuous step, her orbs swiveled in place and then began dragging along behind her, digging two deep grooves into the sand. Her bouts of growth had become spasmodic, sometimes only a few seconds apart, sometimes even quicker. Each one sent ripples over the taut skin. Some were so strong, they made the spheres bob over the beach.

The waves splashed against her shins. Her mammaries slid easier now across the sand under water. She kept on walking, one step after the other, and the higher the sea rose around the sloshing orbs, the stronger their buoyancy became. Each passing wave made them lose contact with the sandy ocean floor a little longer until the surf reached Barbara's navel and her round, heavy bags were almost completely submerged, drifting freely. She sighed with relief after the weight had disappeared. Her breasts' diameter grew through the one-and-a-half yard mark and continued in pulses, sending out concentric waves over the surface.

Reaching out sideways with her arms, Barbara pushed against her buoys and felt the heavy masses slowly move about, struggling against the resistance of the water they needed to displace. Most of her breasts floated under the surface, only part of their upper sides showed above, like pale, soft icebergs.

Another dozen steps, and she was already chest deep into the sea. A swarm of the mermaids rose around each of her boobs; worshippers touching and caressing their idols. Their hands were slippery and warm. She fought the desire to close her eyes and just fall down into the embrace of those hands and into the delights of their expert massage. Every now and then, one of the more daring admirers grabbed one of the hard nipples and, with juicy lips and deft fingers, milked a thick spurt from the sizable ducts. They turned away with their heads painted white with milk, licking their grinning lips and wringing out their matted hair. Every time Barb feared to faint from the satisfaction she got out of the squirts. Her knees gave in, but she remained afloat, held up by her gently swaying and throbbing buoys. Her toes scraped through the sand, yet she remained at her boobs' moorage but for a little drifting back and forth with the surf.

~

Chapter 22: Adrift

~

The queen slowly surfaced in front of Barbara, dancing high enough on her agile fishtail to glance over the white orbs and into Barbara's face.

"You are a very plucky and lucky woman," she remarked, poking Barbara's left breast with her right hand while holding her left arm akimbo. "And you're lucky that I like that!" She snapped her fingers. "Guards! Aid our Feedness to the deeper waters!"

Barbara looked back. Dave stood on the beach, all alone. His shoulders hung. He looked like he'd never move again, frozen in place, staring out at the sea after his lost love.

"No. No, please, I — I thought I could, but I just — I can't leave him," whispered Barbara.

The queen smiled at her as she slowly shook her head.

"Silly thing! Why would you have to? Now that he has a shot of mermaid's blood in him and lived, there's no harm in you seeing him." She winked. "And, y'know, seeing-seeing him. As long as he's not moving inland, I guess you'll spend more time around him than before. Just don't scare the fishes from his nets with your great whites."

"He won't like me with scales and a fishtail. Blowjobs get old quickly."

The queen disappeared underwater without as much as a splash. Her dark shadow circled the young woman and her pair of oversized half-floating endowments, then she resurfaced by Barbara's side. As her upper body rose, her breasts quaked under her chuckling. The queen leaned her curvy back against the young woman. It felt a bit cold and damp but nowhere near as slimy as Barbara had feared the mermaid's skin to be, not even when she received a playful elbow jab. The siren pouted and drew her forefinger across her own glistening, soft lips until she sucked the digit into her mouth and pulled it out with a wet shl—pop.

"Take it from me: blowjobs never get old with the fishermen," the queen whispered over her shoulder from the corner of her mouth. Louder she continued, "Besides, fishtail's optional. With the size your milk bags are destined for, you'll have to rely on your guard of honor to push them around for you, anyway. So why not keep your legs?"

"Ohyesplease," Anosthea muttered under her tense inhale. "I don't think I could handle legs-to-tail by myself yet."

Barbara hung her head and raised her hands. "Wait, wait. My guard of honor?"

"Why, of course!" declared the queen, slowly circling Barbara while she raised her canted head and her arms to the dawn sky. "You're important! You're holy! You're the new soul of our colony! The Mother! The Feeder! Oh what a glorious dawn awaits! No more shall hunger rule the Swarm! Our sisters shall grow big and strong and they shall multiply in plentitude! Oh do excuse my gravitas, but even with all those little," her eyes narrowed as she shot Anosthea an annoyed glance, "difficulties, it's still such a magnificent moment."

The queen turned around again, now rubbing her curvaceous body and her impressive breasts against Barbara's back. Her hands grabbed Barbara's hips and moved gently forward across Barbara's midriff, tracing the long sheath hidden under the young woman's skin. "Mmmh. And what a long tube you've gained. So why would you give up on impaling yourself on his glorious boner anyway? Haven't you come to enjoy all that mermaid goodness already inside you?" She winked.

Barbara blushed. "It was quite nice," she stammered with her head held low. "So this two pussy thing, you all have these, too?"

The queen's long tail stopped its slow swinging. "Two?" she asked incredulously. "You've been blessed with the Second Lips? It is a rare miracle only bestowed upon the horniest of the horny!" She circled Barbara, and her webbed fingers hesitated inches in front of the young woman's collarbones. The queen's fingertips trembled in the air.

"M—may I touch you to bring them out?" she whispered. "Your Feedness, may I even dare to kiss them? Oh please, I'll make it worth your while, I'll lick your pearls clean —"

Barbara gently grabbed the mermaid queen's wrists. "I'm scared and I'm floating in the ocean and now I suddenly have a guard of honor and I — and David ..." She sniveled. "Have mercy, your highness. My mind is swirling. Please give me time to understand all this."

The queen swallowed hard and tore her gaze from Barbara's bust.

"Yes, yes, of course." She took a couple of deep breaths and fanned her face with both hands. "Still, the Second Lips. Not something we see every day."

"Good thing, too," muttered Anosthea behind her, "or else every single beach for miles around would smell like licked clam — gah!" She drew up her shoulders as the queen's agile tail sneaked up on her like a tentacle and the broad tail fin suddenly splashed up to sent a gush of water over her head.

"Prrfffzzz horny old lamprey," snorted the young apprentice witch, rubbing her face, then she remarked louder, "With respect, may I remind your Playfulness that the ring and the kiss do work best during nighttime?"

"Do not strain my patience, youngling!" hissed the queen, then she meshed her fingers and sighed, shaking her head, "Don't you see our Feeder has just learned she won't have to be a stranger in a strange sea, but instead she'll be with her undying love? Oh, the joys of romance!" The queen's face showed the rapturous smile of a woman on her way to overdosing on dime novels.

"Fine," grumbled Anosthea, lowering her head and folding her arms, "but don't blame me if she grows ugly gills in all the wrong places."

"Pish-posh," waved the queen at her girl magician. "This here is love, it conquers all obstacles." She turned her attention back to Barbara. "Well?" the mermaid queen inquired. "You want to bring him the good news, your Feedness? He's looking so cute and lonely, I might snatch the boy with his king-sized tool for myself if you're no longer interested in him." She saw the change in Barbara's face, the brow furrowing angrily, and raised her hands in a hasty apology. "Just kidding, your Feedness! Guards! Aid her in turning around, she needs to step landside one last time."

~

"Dave! Please, I'm too big already, I can't go further," Barbara begged. Her breasts, their diameter almost above her own size now, rested to her left and right. Their top halves rose above the waterline, and their weight held them solidly to the sandy floor. The mermaids of the guard of honor had retreated and stayed respectfully out of earshot.

He stepped into the surf on wobbly knees and stopped just out of reach of her outstretched arms.

"So, you'll become one of them now," Dave mumbled, staring down and avoiding Barbara's eyes.

"Not by choice, but, yes. I — I just can't see what else —," she muttered and lowered her arms.

"And you won't need me anymore. Mermaids don't know love." He touched the swollen bulge on his shoulder. His blood had already sealed the deep hole left by the sting.

Barbara leaned forward against the straining pain in the stretched-out roots of her bulbous, beached anchors.

"Dave!" Slap. She pointed her forefinger straight at his nose, glaring up to him. "Husband, you're not wriggling out of this one. For better or worse, d'you remember? I'll be right out there waiting for you, and oh you will see your wife, every day, d'you understand?"

Her slender hand cupped the back of his neck and forced his face down to hers. Quieter, she added, "And you'll fuck your wife with every inch you have to offer, every day, promise?"

"F—fishtail—?" he replied nervously.

"No way am I getting one," she whispered after a glance at the waiting mermaids. "Two legs, all the better to wrap around you. That long, wriggly, eel-y tail thing of theirs is creepy."

He followed her eyes, leaned closer to her ear and licked his lips. "Maybe you could, for a few days, just once in a while? To, eh, y'know, see what it's like?" he whispered back.

"Dave!"

~

One of the guards approached reverently and bowed to Barbara.

"Your Feedness? Daylight breaks, it is time."

"Yes. Yes, I'm coming," sighed Barbara. "You heard them, David. I don't know what'll happen now, and I'm a bit scared. Will you stay with me and watch, please?"

"If they let me," he whispered and cast a wary glance at the assembly of water women.

He slowly let Barbara slip from his arms and, in turn, out of the avalanche-like embrace of her cleavage. As she stepped backwards and retreated into the deeper waters, David followed her until he stood waist-deep in the surf while he let his hands run along the smooth skin of Barbara's giant breasts. His fingertips tickled a last goodbye over her melon-sized nipples, and then she was out of his reach.

~

Barbara groaned quietly as she was turned on the spot until she faced the open sea. Dozens of hands stroked around the rear sides of her breasts that floated ahead and beneath her, and two rather stout and muscular raven-haired mermaids, their faces so similar that they had to be twins, rose left and right of her from the depths and grabbed her legs. With one hand around her ankles and the splayed fingers of the other against the back of her thighs just beneath her buttocks, they hoisted Barbara halfway on her warm, soft pontoons.

The mermaid to Barbara's right raised her head above the surface and spat a little arc of seawater from her plump pouted lips. "Your Feedness," she whispered with the most enticing voice, "just relax now, we're taking you home." Her cheeky fingers squeezed Barbara's thigh. "Mmmh, It's true, there is something about those leg things; makes me want to try them on some time."

She was interrupted by the commanding holler "—And push!" of the queen who floated in front of Barbara, raised her arms over her head and threw her hands forward.

Barbara gasped for air. The pressure in her chest grew as the mermaids struggled to get her humungous six foot buoys moving. Her malleable flesh flattened, trapped between the inertia of the water in front and the mermaids' many squeezing hands in the back. Milk shot into her nipples and made them swell until the pressure drove the sweet payload out in two thick swirly jets. Slowly, Barbara's body picked up speed, leaving behind white veils that rose to the surface and spread out into a thin layer of fat on the ocean's rippling waves.

Her carriers did a fine job holding her body above the waterline, and Barbara rode out to sea on the bow wave of her breasts like the figurehead of a galleon.

~

David jerked sideways as Anosthea suddenly popped up right by his shoulder, shaking water from her hair and showering him with a rain of droplets. The slender, girlish witch-in-training eyed him with canted head while her damp fingers curiously prodded and kneaded up and down his arm.

"Hmm. Nice muscles," rasped the green-eyed girl. "Don't you worry, she is in capable hands, and I'll teach you all about being Seeder to the Feeder."

David shuddered as the first loop of her long and agile tail slipped between his legs, wrapped around his right thigh and continued to lay its coils down towards his feet. Veils of the tail fin tickled up and down his other leg. He held perfectly still while Anosthea rose higher. The illusion of her petite torso gave way to the reality of her serpentine body's true height as she looked down on him. Her one hand's fingers played along his jawline, and the other's digits brushed his hair back from his ear.

He stared straight after his wife's shrinking shape as she disappeared towards the horizon.

"Just make it quick," David groaned through gritted teeth.

"What?" Anosthea arched her chest away from him and raised her eyebrows.

"She can't see or hear us any longer, so stop all your teasing and acting!" His breath came fast and flat, and he clenched his fists in powerless rage. "You have what you wanted, you stole my wife, so why don't you just go ahead and drown me or strangle me or whatever it is that your kind does!"

"What?!" The green-haired girl put her arms akimbo, the loops of her tail tightened in anger. "You ungrateful stupid ... stupidhead! Why would I do that?"

Muttering and growling to herself, she dug her fingers into a fold around her waist. David cast a quick glance and gasped.

"Oh what now?" she hissed, fumbling with both her hands under her skin now.

"A — a pouch? Is there no end to your weirdness?"

"It's just a fish skin belt I'm wearing, you dolt! Just happens to look a bit like my own tail's scales. With hips like mine it can't slip off and it's a good place to keep all the medicine stuff." She pulled out a flat flask, shook a dollop of reddish ooze on her palm and slapped it on the swollen puncture left by the sting. Her fingers spread the thick salve. "Hold still now. Sheesh, it's as if you didn't listen to a single word I ... told ... the Feeder ..."




Siren Song Ch. 08



Short and to the point: This is a Breast Expansion Fetish story. If B.E.'s not up your alley, then you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

Siren Song: The Siren Song Extended — Menena's Comeuppance

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

~

First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2013-11-16

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to CoffeePilot for his time and patience.

~

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1186-7, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"... The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I ever had ..." — Tears for Fears, Mad World

~

What happened so far:

Once upon a winter storm, a young woman named Barbara saved a young man named David from drowning. As these things often go, they fell in love. As these things also often go, their love was frowned upon by the girl's mistress, rich and influential Menena, the town's mayor, who was smitten with David (or rather, the huge cock he was blessed with). Not one to take rejection lightly, she kept on making the young couple's life miserable any which way she could. Things took a turn for the worse when Barbara became the target of a gaggle of mermaids' plan to procure themselves a new Feeder, and Menena's meddling in those tricky affairs of transformation magic caused quite spectacular developments on Barbara's body. Barbara and David barely made it to safety, or at least out of Menena's greedy claws into the somewhat fishy embrace of the mermaids.

Will Menena get away with her misdeeds? Read on to find out ...

~

Two years ago, 1185 ...

"What — what — what," mocked Menena, towering akimbo over the half-dressed, convulsing woman. "What I'm going to do? I already did! I made you my very own milk cow, that's what I've done." She leaned down and grabbed Barbara's hair, forcing her face up. "Don't you need relief, huh? Don't you long for a pair of hands to ease your swollen burden before you burst? And who else can you turn to now, huh? Who in this whole village will not burn you at the stake, huh? So down, cow! On your hands and knees, and crawl to the back room like the obedient livestock you are! I want to see you hang your teats into the milk bucket right now!"

~

Chapter 24: A Mermaid's Court

~ 

Summer of 1187 ...

~

The midday sun burned down on the secluded stretch of stone beach beneath the cliffs. A sole narrow path led down to the water's edge, and it was more of a chain of depressions caused by sagging earth and withering rock than a real footpath. The woman of forty cautiously watched her step as she slowly climbed down the treacherous route. Sand and stones gave way under her feet, and she struggled to maintain her balance. It only worked every so often, and her palms and elbows were scuffed already. The landward wind pulled at her raven tresses that might have been lush and shiny in the morning but by now were a sweaty, matted mane with gray spots of dust and dirt.

She gasped for air as her feet slipped out from under her. Falling hard on her sizable buttocks, she slid down a couple of yards until she caught her heels. Her momentum made her flip forward. She stumbled on and ended up face down on a small hill of softer sand. Grunting, spitting and cursing she clambered to her feet and brushed the loose sand from her dress and her round face.

"Yes, Menena, just like you deserve it," she chided herself under her breath. "Be a good girl and go and get your punishment." The way she wiped the sand from her face could've easily been mistaken for a couple of painful slaps on the cheeks.

Menena's clothes were worn and ragged. The remainder of a drab tunic slung around her chest was so wide and baggy that it just barely hinted at the heavy, breathtakingly huge breasts hidden underneath. A length of old rope held the cloth in place; it cut into her slight paunch, resulting in a mesh of pleats that extended from her waist down to the frayed rim of the fabric at the height of her knees. Dust and dried blots of dirt covered the bright skin of her naked shins and feet. The supremely well-preserved forty-something raven stopped just out of reach of the waves. Her face was contorted by pain; the coarse cobbles covering the beach pressed into her bare soles and ground against the bones and joints in her feet. She gulped and panted flatly, struggling against rising shame to get the words out. Facing the ocean, she groaned, "Here I am. I — I've been bad." Tears stung in her eyes.

A chain of bubbles drew in from the open sea and neared the edge where water met land. Inch by inch, a head with soaked short green hair rose from the surface. Bright green eyes flashed under thin, slightly triangular eyebrows. A frown reached from the forehead across the small button nose to Anosthea's upper lip, revealing the mermaid witch's sharp teeth.

"Bad?" she replied as she cocked her head. "I don't think 'bad' is quite the word for it." Rivulets of water ran down her girlish torso that matched the height of Menena's. The onset of her long prehensile fish tail broke the surface as she kept on rising higher. Tiny scales glittered like scattered silver dots on her skin above the belt around her flaring hips. They gradually became bigger towards her thighs until the girl skin disappeared completely and the illusion of two firm muscular thighs changed into a silver fish tail with a faint tiger pattern spreading from her back to the almost blindingly white front.

Menena's breathing came faster. She lowered her head and turned her gaze away. "E—evil. I've — I've done evil things."

"Oh yes you have," nodded the mermaid. Wet leather creaked in her right hand's grip. Menena shuddered and shrunk at the faint noise.

"I told you," continued the green-haired girl. She raised her slender fingers to her right nipple and ran her fingertips in circles around the slowly hardening nub. "Mmmh. I told you you'd be punished, did I not?"

"Yes," whispered Menena.

"Yes?" A short hiss, barely a word.

Nothing of the mayor woman's former proud demeanor remained as she drew her lower lip over her teeth and stammered with trembling jaw, "Y—yes, M—mistress."

The tip of the whip cracked across her cheek, inches from her eyes. Menena jerked in surprise and pain. A drop of blood swelled slowly from the cut in her skin before beginning its journey down her jawline.

"And—?" Anosthea's question sounded more like a long-drawn moan. The tip of her long snake tongue moistened her lips. Her fingertips pinched the coarse hard raspberry of her right nipple. "You wouldn't submit yourself to castigation if you didn't hope to gain something from it." She spat out.

"I — I ask for the gift, though I don't deserve it," panted Menena.

"Damn right you don't deserve the gift!" roared the girl. Her arm flicked forward, and the whip's thin leather rope flew in a wide arc until it coiled around Menena's throat. The mermaid pulled. Her catch stumbled into the water. Menena lost her balance and would've splashed down if not for the webbed fingers suddenly wrapping around her neck. Anosthea's big eyes filled her sight. The siren's salty ocean breath washed over Menena's face.

"And now," growled Anosthea as Menena had no choice but to cock her head sideways in the mermaid's grip, "you will learn about turning the other cheek."

Her tongue slipped out and sampled the crimson rivulet sticking to Menena's left cheek. "Mmmh. How come someone so venomous can taste so sweet?" breathed the siren. She changed her position in a fluid slithering motion and turned her prey's head over until Menena's right cheek pointed up and forward. The short but sharp nail of the mermaid's left forefinger dug a fraction of an inch into the skin. Agonizingly slow, she pulled her natural talon across the pale surface. Tiny drops of red erupted in its wake, and Anosthea pouted and pressed a sucking kiss on the long slice. When she drew away and threw back her head with a fiendish giggle, her lips were dark red.

"Mistress," whimpered Menena.

Anosthea let go and slithered away without a word. Menena dropped to her hands and knees in the shallow surf. She wiped her bloodied cheeks with the back of her hand and sucked in air as the saltwater bit into the wounds.

"Please, Mistress, I — may I now —," she begged.

The young mermaid watched her with outward contempt while rolling up the long whip and tying it to her belt.

"Oh, so you want your gift anyway? The gift from our generous feeder? Behind the big rock. To your right. To the last drop," she said with a sneer.

Menena struggled to her feet and stumbled towards the boulder. Anosthea watched with her arms crossed over her chest as the raven turned the corner, stopped suddenly and then grew even paler. A tiny corked flask sat innocently on a small flat protrusion near the top of the boulder, and three huge buckets full of milk stood at the foot of the rock. The raven shrunk and drew up her shoulders, pressed her elbows into her sides and hunched forward as she turned to the mermaid swaying slowly in the surf. Menena desperately wrung her hands.

"Thank you for your generosity, Mistress, but — so much? Three whole buckets? I —"

"I remember a woman who mocked a girl for giving a mere bucket. You want it? Drink. It. All. Or leave empty handed, while you can."

Menena cast a quick glance and licked her lips. She hesitated, then her voice grew whiney. "Oh please, please, Mistress Anosthea, I wasn't that evil, I swear! Please, let me just take them along without —"

"And you think I care?" was the angry reply. "Leave, or drink it all. Here. Now."

~

Menena raised the first heavy pail to her lips. Gulp by gulp, the treacherously delicious liquid, still slightly warm, ran down her gullet and filled her belly. She sensed every tiny shiver and faint sting while her skin stretched reluctantly. A quarter into the two gallons, she felt the touch of her dress' coarse cloth against her swelling paunch, and she hesitated and lowered the bucket, burping deeply. Her breath came quicker already; the bloated bag of her stomach fought her lungs for room.

The mermaid watched her nonchalantly, laying prone in the surf and resting her cocked head on her meshed fingers.

"Sated yet? That won't do!" she purred with a sardonic smile. "Go on! You haven't even finished the first, there's two more waiting."

Menena moaned quietly, put the half-emptied bucket down and cradled her wobbly belly. "I — I can't stomach any more," she panted and sagged to her knees.

Anosthea angled her hip and drew close a coil of her long tail, giving herself leverage to righten up. She smirked and pointed with the handle of her whip.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? You know what the little flask is for, don't you? That's my gift to the mean shrew. Bottoms up!"

~

Menena swallowed the tangy mouthful of potion and shuddered in revulsion. Moments later, the shudder returned, spreading through her whole body. The blueish veins that had barely shown through her pale skin grew thicker, bulging across the tumid orb of her belly. Spreading from her navel, her skin flushed and groaned. Heat started burning inside her as the potion dissolved in the liquid overfilling her stomach. The mixture of milk and magic soaked into her fleshy midriff. The round protrusion dominating her front lost some of its pumped-up shape, sagged lower and spread towards her womb. The ragged tunic groaned now that any hint of wrinkles had disappeared from the cloth. Menena's hands rubbed frantically over her swelling stomach.

"Gods, I'm — I'm bloating! I'm — uhhhh! — stretching — growing — mercy!"

"Now it'll all fit, easily. Drink. It." Anosthea leaned forward, licking her lips. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as the kneeling woman obeyed and raised the bucket once again.

As Anosthea stared, her throat, dry with arousal, mimicked every swallowing motion of her increasingly desperate visitor. Gulp by gulp, Menena's distending midriff accepted the remaining half a gallon of the first bucket. She panted and moaned, staggering to her haunches on the coarse pebbles. Her womb slapped down on her thighs. Her massive breasts pushed down on the rubbery ball from above, and her legs blocked the way from below. The flushed navel popped out like a third nipple and stayed that way even as the wandering waves across her stretched skin calmed down. Menena gasped for air and inhaled deeply. The sudden surge in size overwhelmed the old fabric stretching taut around her spherical belly. The cloth gave way with a screeching noise and split in a line extending up and down from her navel. The frayed edge crept over the pale, distending skin swelling through the gap. Anosthea's eyes were fixed on the sight of the thin-skinned orb that obliterated the worn cloth with ease.

"And it's just the first bucket," she whispered. A wave splashed against the fold between her buttocks, and she shuddered with arousal. Louder she commanded, "Go on, what are you waiting for?"

"Yes, Mistress," panted her obedient slave.

Menena grabbed the second serving with trembling hands. Her lips touched the coarse rim. Milk spilled over her cheeks and ran down into the funnel of her cleavage, then in winding rivulets over her belly's orb. Not a drop went to waste; her skin hungrily soaked up the surplus and added it to the sphere of milk.

"Yes," moaned the wide-eyed mermaid, mesmerized by the swelling, already barely human-looking orb creature that Menena slowly turned into. Every mouthful added to her immense girth. Little remained of the cloth. It tore more open with every passing drop and every passing second, already unveiling the horizontal fold where the pair of Menena's huge yet dwarfed breasts, still contained in the last rags of the rough tunic, rested on the bloated ball. The first glistening stretch marks spread like thin cobwebs from her navel. Their mesh widened quickly. Menena's larynx pumped up and down as she forced huge gulps of her liquid obsession down her throat.

The second pail clattered to the ground. Despite the afternoon heat, cold sweat coated the raven's face. Her hands measured up the orb that stretched far beyond the size of any imaginable pregnancy from her body. It lifted the top of her breasts almost to the height of her shoulders and had them wobbling with every heavy breath like bags of water draped to the left and right over the round monstrosity.

"I'll — urrrp! — never make — the third," stammered Menena. Her head dangled and her gaze danced unsteadily. She licked her lips. Every single quiver and wave fueled a budding arousal that wrapped her thoughts in a layer of milky fog. Tiny drops of her bitter honey seeped out between her legs.

"Oh, I know your belly's quite full now," chuckled the mermaid. She pushed herself up and continued, "Yet you will drink it, understood? See, I've grown a bit tired of our Feeder's taste. I want a taste of you, queen of evil. So I took some liberties. That potion you swallowed, it's not like the times before. I sneaked in a bit of a juice that'll let us have fun today." She licked her lips. "You'll make lots of milk, all for me. You'll have thick and brimming udders within minutes, and I won't let you go until I've squeezed them dry. Oh, you'll beg me to. Oh yes." Her breath came faster, and she pouted involuntarily as she imagined the sight of the milk source that Menena was about to become.

~

Anosthea slithered behind the trembling woman and grabbed her shoulders. Menena was pulled backwards and gasped when her back made contact with the slippery tail. Her spine groaned as it turned into a reclining arch across the thick pulsating trunk of scale-coated muscles. The raven's breasts followed gravity and slipped higher until their soft shapes pancaked against her shoulders. Several fleshy inches thick and more than dish-sized in diameter, the heavy milk cakes moved under the frail tunic and quivered under Menena's agitated breathing.

The mermaid spread her webbed fingers wide and grabbed Menena's breasts, squeezing the malleable mammaries into balls the size of a small pumpkin. She licked her lips and ran her thumbs over the patches where small bumps in the cloth revealed the nipples.

"Mistress, your hands — oh please, so unchaste —"

"You, wailing about chastity? Now that's a laugh! And that's just the beginning. My, what little teats you have. Gonna fix that." Anosthea changed her grip, squeezing the left breast with one hand now. The textile's mesh widened, straining around the pale orb. Leaning in, Anosthea whispered an incantation towards the silver ring on her left hand. Its blue stone flashed as she ticked her right forefinger's talon against it, and the glow spread along the pointy nail.

"Big and hard, wasn't that how you always liked your things?" chuckled the mermaid. Menena convulsed as the curved claw pierced the cloth and dug deep into her left nipple. Not only did it burn like a red-hot needle, it carried with it a fiery itch that ate itself deeper into her breast.

"Aaagh! W—what — inside me!"

Anosthea pulled her nail back out. The glow was gone. She continued kneading the slowly flushing breast with both hands.

"Gonna spread it nice and deep all through your mam, y'know," she chuckled.

"Y—yes, mistress," gulped Menena. The itch filled her breast from the painfully hardening nipple all the way down to her ribs. She moaned. Her teat swelled suddenly, tenting its straining wrapper.

"Oh yes, coming along very nicely," grinned the mermaid. She felt the flesh growing firmer and the skin straining tauter around the milk factory in her clutch. Her hands switched sides. Seconds later, her sharp nail penetrated Menena's right nipple. "Got to keep you balanced, do I not?" she whispered, then exhaled with a delighted moan. Her fingers kneaded both of Menena's heavy breasts, and the strawberry nipples poked into her palms.

"Oooh, nice and big. Oh, they can handle lots and lots of milk now. Just need to put some more into those jugs, they're good for nothing while they're still so empty. I want to guzzle from your plump teats, and you're not yet full enough for that. Here now, dear. Taste a bit of motivation." The mermaid's eyes sparkled with greed as she forced Menena's jaws open with one hand while she raised a small ornamented flask. A single clear drop crept from its opening and fell into the ring of pouted lips. Menena jerked, and the sudden motion sent ripples over her pumped-up belly. Moments later, her mouth and throat were ablaze. She gasped for air. Her hands fumbled desperately for the third pail.

The mermaid smirked, tucked away the potion and raised the heavy bucket with ease. Menena tried to righten herself, but her belly was already too heavy for that demanding maneuver. She pouted and smacked like a carp, grabbed the wooden bucket as soon as it was in her hands' reach and tore it from her tormentor's grip. The first gush of milk spattered all over her face, then she opened her mouth until she almost unhinged her jaw. She caught the whole volume of the thick stream and seemed to turn her throat into a drain pipe.




Siren Song Ch. 08



"Good girl. Open wide," Anosthea grinned maliciously as her toy filled itself up further. Her fingers cupped for a moment the frantically pumping throat, then stroked down across the soft expanse of heavy shaking breasts and up along the side of the quivering belly-ball while she slithered up against it,.

"Oh yes. Yes, you're almost done." The young mer-witch's arms encompassed the taut balloon of Menena's midriff. She put her shell-shaped ear against the flushed three quarter sphere and listened with closed eyes to the groaning skin straining against her arms as the noises of stretching grew more urgent. Muffled guzzling and gargling propagated through the liquid core while the last pints of milk disappeared down Menena's gaping maw until the final bucket was finished and the only sounds were Menena's desperate panting and the frantic drumbeat of the woman's heart deep in the bloated bag. Anosthea's arms just barely fit around the quivering absurdity which she cradled like an overstuffed pillow.

"You're not swollen enough. Just imagine what'll happen once it starts to foam up into your udders," she giggled as she rose by the side of her engorged prey, raised her arms and performed the arcane gestures of her craft. With her eyes narrowed to slices, Anosthea guided tiny sparkles of magic into the white sphere. Its ethereal glow, invisible to the ungifted, intensified with every added spark.

Menena didn't listen any more. She lay with wide-open eyes, trembling slightly as she felt her body becoming aroused beyond anything she ever thought possible. Her hands stroked her belly, caressing the vast expanse like a giant breast, tracing its firm, taut surface. Her spine curved into an arch; squirming in place was all she could do with the heavy milk ball holding her down. Her skin itched, every square inch of her breasts was flushed and quivered from within, and the strange sensations spread rapidly. Her thighs glistened with her own copious juices.

"Yes — more, oh please, more, —" she moaned, throwing her head left and right.

~

"Are you enjoying this?" growled the witch, lowering herself until she was inches from Menena's ecstatic grimace. "That won't do." Her hands grabbed the sides of Menena's face. Anosthea closed her eyes, lowered her head and murmured a gargling incantation.

The woman in her clutch froze. The only things moving were Menena's eyes, their gaze darting left and right, and her lower lip that started trembling as the haze of lust cleared from her mind. She recognized her pair of breasts, almost hanging into her face, and beyond them the white mountain of her belly as it blocked her sight of anything beyond the apple-sized navel.

"What — what have you done to me?" she stammered, terrified as the forced clarity brought reason back into her mind. Her hands held the quivering orb. She felt the straining skin, the ripples from her fearful panting criss-crossing the surface.

"Gods, what have you done? Mercy, oh please, I'm — I'm about to burst!"

The witch canted her head and smiled down on her.

"Oh, I don't think so. You've got a bellyful of our Feeder's very best choice milk, y'know? It's what I conjure up inside her when a mermaid wants to become firm and plenteous. It's what makes their bodies malleable. It's the most potent magic milk the Goddess can give. Just for good measure, I stirred a healthy dollop of my growth cream into it. The one we slathered your breasts with when we first met. You do remember that, don't you? I bet sometimes when you remember, you wake at night screaming."

Menena's face said it all without a word. Tears trickled from the corner of the woman's once so cold eyes.

"Please," she whispered. "Not this. Not like this."

Anosthea leaned in. "You really need to learn to listen to other people. Too bad you won't have another chance to do that. I said you'd get one warning, the last time." She snapped her fingers. Blueish veins spread under Menena's pale skin, growing outwards from the swollen navel. The milk soaked through the helpless woman's body like a spreading infection, rendering her a puppet to the mermaid's capriciousness.

"You're mean and selfish and a pain in everyone's ass. Maybe it's time for a change. Maybe the world would be better off without this Mayor. Maybe what the world needs is another cow."

Menena shook her head mutely.

"Defiance?" laughed the mermaid. "Oh, how cute. I'll cure you of that, rest assured. And these —," she pinched Menena's left nipple, "they need to become much bigger. Who could possibly enjoy these sad pimples?"

A gesture. Menena felt the milk crawling through her flesh, replacing it with living liquid under her straining skin. Her breasts swelled, drawing on her bloated belly's supply. Their flattened shape rounded out, turning from thick pancaking loafs to round pumpkins, and her areola gained a very defined circular edge as they changed into mounds on top of rising mounds. Her nipples' coarse skin stretched smoother as they rivaled swollen ripe strawberries in size. They boiled from the inside, hardening over the milk that congealed into sensually overcharged flesh as it stuffed more volume into Menena's already large breasts, inflating them into brimming udders. No amount of suppressive magic could've kept the raw sexual appetite at bay that at the same time gorged its way through Menena's mind.

"Unnngh — must — stroke them," she moaned.

"No, must squeeze them," chuckled the mermaid. She spun her hand. The milk in Menena's belly obeyed. The raven felt herself turning over, rising as an attachment of the enormous paunch that seemed to develop a mind of its own until she stood leaning forward with her breasts dangling against the side of the orb and her legs wide, giving room for the onset of her belly that held her upright like a giant pillow.

"Nice milk doll," smiled Anosthea. "Let's see if your legs can hold that weight." She raised her fore and middle finger. Menena's spine screamed as her back muscles forced her upright, but finally the taut sphere lost touch of the ground.

~

"That's quite the pair of udders, cow," chuckled the mermaid. She slithered towards the water, laid herself on her back and propped up her torso by her elbows. With her head just above the surf and the water caressing the sides of her own firm demi-globes, she faced Menena. Bringing her long fishtail about, she unrolled it across the sand like an octopus' tentacle, right before the black-haired woman's legs. The tiny scales under the lubricating layer of slime sparkled in all the colors of the rainbow.

"Now be a good girl and sit on it," she commanded. "Time to squeeze this milk sponge of a dirtwalker into a pleasant shape. Still too much milk in your paunch and not enough in your breasts."

Menena stumbled further into the surf and spread her legs wide, climbing over the tapering appendage. Anosthea flexed her tail and curved it upwards. The slippery muscle forced itself between Menena's meaty thighs and slapped like a giant's lubed cock against the swollen woman's crotch, parting her sizable outer labia. Menena's skin crawled with heat and arousal boiling over as the aphrodisiac slime that coated Anosthea's lower half wandered through her flesh and mingled with her juices.

"Come closer, sponge," commanded the mermaid. Menena inched forward, then felt the trunk between her legs rise and lift her to her toe tips. Her bloated weight forced her down the greased cone that parted her buttocks and spread her thighs further apart as she neared Anosthea's flaring hips.

The mermaid's splayed fingers dove into her engorged breasts and stopped her sliding. Anosthea's tail rolled around Menena's hips, and the raven gasped for air as the first loop of the slick, bole-thick muscle coiled across her belly and slathered the straining skin with its viscous coating, leaving a low burning sensation as it soaked into her flesh.

"Oh my, you're so swollen, maybe my tail isn't long enough to reach all the way around you?" mused Anosthea. A fearful shriek left Menena's mouth as the next loop, less thick but still broader than a man's thigh, burrowed into the crevice between her fat breasts and the orb of her paunch. The final loop, just about the diameter of a wrist but with semi-transparent, feathered fins along the sides, snaked through under her right arm and laid a trail of ooze across her collarbones before it finished the last coil around her throat.

Anosthea closed her eyes and felt Menena's heartbeat racing through the veins under her tail around the woman's neck. The tip of the mermaid's long tongue parted her dark lips, drawing a sparkling layer of saliva on their pouting fullness. She raised her head that had sunk back a bit, and her brow furrowed as she eyed the woman who held still, paralyzed by fear.

"All of you, trapped in my clutch. Mmmh," she breathed raunchily.

Menena's scared panting ended as the living sling around her throat tightened up. The trapped woman clawed at the glistening surface, but her weak resistance had no chance against the chain mail of tiny scales.

"Oh, you'll stay conscious long enough. Just making sure it doesn't come out your mouth, dear. For that special taste, it really needs to filter through your flesh," fluted the mermaid. She squirmed a bit, steadying herself, then curved her tail at her hips and effortlessly lifted the woman orb in her snare. Raising her hand, she flicked a sharp nail against the nearest fat nipple dangling over her face and was rewarded with an ineffectual twitch from her trapped prey.

"And now — time to take a milk shower." The loop around Menena's belly tightened up.

Menena felt the rising pressure, the crushing strength that held her trapped. The more the coil of Anosthea's tail contracted, the more Menena's hips and shoulders were twisted in opposite directions, wringing out her belly. The veins of milk under her skin swelled and showed like a land map now. She felt the milk burning through the vessels as it rushed away from the choking loop and occupied the adjacent parts of her body. The swelling and bloating reached her buttocks, then her thighs. The last remains of her tunic shrieked a high-pitched good-bye as her hips widened to make room for the slime-coated, flushed labia growing thicker and wider between her legs with every passing moment.

"Nnnngh—!" groaned the mermaid, clenching her teeth. The corkscrew of her tail constricted further. Menena's belly had all but disappeared, overshadowed by the wide hips and the ass of a cart horse ballooning from them. In the other direction, her breasts were busy taking up the lion's share of milk. Their taut skin bulged out between the slippery loops of Anosthea's snake tail as they raced beyond the size of any natural female breast, then way past the size of bovine udders, determinedly approaching the biggest of prize pumpkins. The nipples struggled against the mammoth load of nurture amassing inside the flesh balloons. The deep strawberry red had dissolved with the desperate stretching of their coarse skin. They resembled a pair of ripe peaches now, crowning swollen domes of areola the size of a splayed hand. Inch by inch, the tail proceeded to force more enchanted milk into them by squeezing Menena's paunch away and turning the woman's shape into a twisted, impossible hourglass.

Anosthea raised her arms towards the orbs dangling down. Her hands caught some of the weighty gallons pulling and tearing at Menena's ribcage. Smooth skin bulged out between her fingers as she tried to squeeze the tightly packed layers of glands and ducts overflowing with hoarded milk. The first thin sprays left chains of white droplets on her chest and face. She licked the corners of her mouth and closed her eyes.

"Mmmh. Oh yes, that's a taste so very worth the effort."

Her eyes snapped open again, sparkling feverishly. She canted her head.

"Let's end this while there's still a little life in your gaze," Anosthea whispered huskily.

Menena waved desperately with splayed fingers towards the mermaid's face, begging mutely for mercy. Her bones creaked and groaned. Her tendons screamed a silent storm of searing pain into her mind. The unnatural twist of her spine from her hips to her head meant she couldn't help but see her own grotesque buttocks and her overstuffed mammaries at the same time. Her skin squeaked with milky sweat as the pressure inside searched for any which way of escape. Growing dark dots danced before her eyes, her heartbeat thundered in her ears and her lungs heaved fruitlessly against the living choker around her neck that tightened more with every passing agonizing moment.

Please, m—mercy, oh p—please, I c—can't take it longer, I'm — about — I'm —

Anosthea placed her lips like a suction cup over the left nipple and drew the swollen peach into the boiling cave of her mouth. She suckled gently but for a moment, then she dug her sharp teeth into the succulent fruit. Her cheeks fell in as she built her suction to full strength. The nipple trembled and grew bigger, forced to swell by the sweet warm liquid streaming into it. Its ducts widened. The trickle grew into a torrent. Jets of milk burst from every tine pore. Horrific lust and sweetest pain exploded into Menena's mind. For a few final moments, the woman's thoughts became almost coherent again.

I'm dying. I'm bursting. I'm full of milk, I'm nothing but milk — not a single bone — she's twisting me apart, she's squeezing me dry ... she'll go all the way — no one around — to — save me — this time ...

Her arm fell. Her world descended into a black whirl as her twisted body turned limp in the mermaid's chokehold.

~

Menena felt cold smooth wood beneath her bare left sole and the clammy wrapper of soaked leather around her right foot. Ahead of her, a stairway shrouded in darkness led upwards. She frowned and shook her aching head, then proceeded to slowly climb the creaking stairs, and slowly did she recognize the place ...

~

Chapter 25: Not so long ago

~

One year earlier, on a thundery late summer night in 1186 ...

~

Menena trudged up the stairs to her bedroom, her face a frozen mask of anger as she rubbed her aching wrists. The shackles had left bloodied scuffs, and the formerly almost regal dress she dragged after herself was soaked through with water. Rain whipped against the windows, and bolts of lightning crackled across the sky. The furious elements were a perfect match to her simmering mood.

"The nerve of the Count, arresting me just because of some old wives' tales!" She plucked at her torn sleeves. "And those stupid wardens, roughing me up and ruining my best dress! And what for? Just because she came to my shop, insulting me with her whorish curves! At least Sandy spoke up for me, else those dimwits might actually have thrown me into jail. Just imagine! And then they just send me off, no sorry, no apologies, like — like I'm not this rat hole's mayor!"

The stocky, curvy woman of almost forty years slumped down on her bed and started to untie the complicated geometry of her bustier's strings. She kept on muttering under her breath.

"So that blond floozy's finally gone for good. What do I care? Well, except for that delicious, delicious milk of hers. Oh, she would've been a keeper once she was nothing but those gorgeous udders."

The last loop of string gave way, and the tight bustier gaped open.

"Fffff—," Menena exhaled in relief as her slight paunch was free to jut out. Moments later, with more of the ties gone, her breasts sagged down, their breathtaking opulence now completely overshadowing what little womanly roundness of her belly there was. Menena supported her ample bosom with one hand while the other reached for the bottle of her favorite lotion.

"Ahhhh," she sighed as she dribbled a ropey line back and forth across the two pale peaks of her promontory. The cold liquid sent a shiver up and down her spine. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. "Mmmh. Oh, nothing like a gentle kneading and rubbing to make the world feel right again."

Crack — boom.

"And you can shut it," she snarled towards the window at the angry sky as she lay down on the big bed and cuddled her breasts in her arms, playing with the thick lube and spreading the glistening coating over her mammaries' reddening, warming skin.

~

"Mmmh. Oh yes, my lovelies, drink up your lotion," moaned Menena. Her breasts' soft mountains hung to her left and right. Their silken skin shone like polished marble, and the pair of her nipples had stiffened under her expert fingertips. "Yes, momma likes. Oh, the pair of you, so nice and perfect. Thick and round, and so — oooh!"

She shivered. Heat spread through the massive mammaries, and her nipples tightened. The palm-sized areola beneath Menena's fingers felt firmer.

"Oh my. That is new. What are you two up to tonight?"

She prodded the faint domes around her dugs, and they responded with a slight pushing back.

"Mmmh. My goodness, you're filling up!" She licked her lips. "The gods, finally. Is this the night?"

Her fingers pinched the reddish circles. The sensation took her breath away. Something deep in her chest felt fuller. A happy glow lighted her face.

"Huh, my darlings? Is this the night where you make your first milk for mama? Yes, go on!"

Her kneading motions became more demanding. She cupped as much of her pancaking boobs as her fingers could encompass and worked her fingertips against the deep structure of milk glands. The loafs bulged in her grip. Menena rubbed and squeezed happily, reveling in her own hands' experience.

"Yes, oh yes! Like — goat's udders, evening full. Oh yes," she moaned with closed eyes. "Baaah," she bleated and chuckled.

Her fingers spread apart.

"Oh yes! Milk! I — I can feel it coming, I can feel the fullness! Yes! This is the night! Come on, come out! I want to feel the spray across my skin!"

She focused on her left breast, grabbing it as hard as she dared with both hands. Menena stroked and squeezed from the root to the nipple while she twisted her thighs and closed her eyes. Liquid moved through the firming flesh in her grasp. Her breath came quicker. The swollen nipple itched, begging for release. She pinched the sensitive bud and received a warm, thin coating of milk on her fingertips as a reward.

The heavy sound of some piece of furniture falling over downstairs made her freeze up instantly. Thin white lines of milk kept spraying from the nipple as she held her breath. The stairs leading to the bedroom's antechamber creaked, yet there was not a single footstep mixed into the noises.

The door flew open and slammed against the wall. A tall, brawny woman, barely dressed in strips of leather slung around her impressive chest and hips, filled the frame. She pushed into the room and spread her arms wide, steadying herself with one hand's splayed fingers on the door itself, the other on the wall. Long, wet hair with hints of blue under black hung over her shoulders. She straightened until her head almost ran into the ceiling. The nine foot giantess glowered with squinting eyes down on the half-naked woman on the bed.

Motion below the intruder's belt lured Menena's gaze from the angry face. Snakes spilled into the room, a wriggling knot of muscles covered in black glossy scales. Menena gasped in revulsion and shock, which didn't diminish when she realized that it was just one single, long trunk springing from the barbarian giantess' hips.

"So you are the one who hurt our precious Feeder?" hissed the towering apparition, its long tail writhing as it searched and found hold upon hold against the walls. Before Menena could utter a single word, the coil of muscles unleashed its pent-up impetus, and the human upper body of the mermaid surged forward. Her full elastic breasts slammed against Menena and launched the stunned woman off the bed. Before she hit the wall, a steely arm wrapped around Menena's midriff and pulled her into the bulky creature's tight embrace. A loop of tail whizzed past, slammed against the approaching wall, caught their momentum and rebounded the attacker with its prey back towards the door. A wet palm covered Menena's lips and held her jaw shut, stifling her surprised, angry scream. She struggled with no hope of breaking free.




Siren Song Ch. 08



Held like a figurehead in front of the rhythmically swaying creature, Menena was carried down the stairs and out the door. Heavy rain whipped against her face as her captor slithered across the wet cobblestones of the empty streets, coiled over a low part of the town wall and picked up speed on the swampy fields. Behind them, the silhouette of the town disappeared quickly into the murky night.

~

Sand hit Menena on the shoulder, then in the face. She spat and coughed as she rolled onto her back with her hip angled sideways. The first blueish glow of morning appeared over the black ocean towards the eastern horizon.

"How dare you!" snarled Menena towards the creature that had lost almost all of its snake-like agility on the dry sand. The tall, muscular half-woman bent down and picked up a heavy copper trident, then put it nonchalantly over her shoulder. Her swaying motions translated into rhythmic bobbing of her almost udder-sized, weighty breasts that defied gravity. She was in prime shape, with her ribs and their toned muscles showing under her bright flawless skin. Framing a young face frozen into a cold frown, her long dark hair curled to just above her enviable waist. While the brawny mermaid wiggled her firm buttocks and cumbersomely inched her tail back into the water, she gave Menena a mute look of contempt before she nodded brusquely towards a shadow rising from surf.

Black as the receding night, the silhouette of a short-haired head and a girlish torso showed against the faintly lit sky. The shadow approached with a swaying gait that had nothing of a human walk. Menena's eyes followed the shape of the surprisingly curvy waist and even though she already expected it, she jerked back in primal fear when she saw the several yards long serpentine tail that coiled and writhed out of the water.

The rain of night fled towards the west, and a blood red sun broke through the black lumpy clouds, bathing the beach in morning light. Menena blinked and raised her right hand to shield her eyes. Her gaze rose again from the creature's glossy, silvery eel tail, its tiger stripes fading towards the front. A wide belt around the hip, almost indistinguishable in color from the being's scales, hid all detail but a massive camel toe bulge and marked the change from slippery fish trunk to well-toned girl midriff. Menena spent only a passing glance at the firm handfuls of breasts, focusing instead on the gold chains that decorated the mermaid's chest and upper arms. She was taken by surprise by the mop of green hair, its spiky strands slightly flattened against the head.

~

A few of the green strands hung over the girl's eyes that wandered over Menena's disheveled clothes and weighty, milk-heavy rack. The mermaid canted her head and turned her face to the bulky guardian who had slithered up to her.

"Are you sure she is the mean mistress?" Anosthea whispered to the guard. "She might just be some housekeeper. I mean, she doesn't quite look like a haughty leader to me. Maybe she's another poor thing forced to give milk to that evil bitch, the way she's ready and dripping now."

The young guard shrugged and narrowed her eyes as she tried to bring her water-born sight into focus. "Oh yes, she's dripping all right. Then again, she was the only one in the house, and it was late at night. I say we just get it over with, Ano. One dirtwalker more or less —"

The mermaid witch ruffled her own hair and drew a face. "Yeah, but — well, I wouldn't want to anger the Holy Feeder, y'know how irate she already gets if we pick fishermen instead of pirates. And this game here, that's quite —"

The guard rolled her eyes. "Oh great. Anosthea, I'm not going back to pick another one. We got lucky with last night's hard rain, and I'll have tail rash for days with all that sand and swamp and grass. Maybe you should've asked the Feeder for details."

"What? No! No, it's supposed to be a surprise."

~

She turned back to Menena and bowed with a hint of curtsy thrown in.

"Greetings, woman."

"Greetings, girl — fish — snake — thing?" snarled Menena.

"My name is Anosthea. Remember it."

"Oh, I will," Menena replied, raising her forefinger to the mermaid who crossed her arms over her chest. "Anosthea, I don't know why you brought me here. I never had dealings with your kind! Had someone told me yesterday, I wouldn't even have believed your kind exists!"

Anosthea shrugged. "Yes, I get that a lot. Oh well, it's simple, really. Just tell me your name."

Menena frowned and shook her head. "My name? That's it? — Aiiieee!"

She shrieked and jerked away in surprise as Anosthea suddenly lowered herself to the kneeling woman and raised a hand, only to gently stroke Menena's cheek with the back of her fingers.

"Shhh. Calm down, woman." She grabbed Menena's shoulders and held her face to face at arm's length. "Your. Name."

The proud woman glared back at the young mermaid. "Menena. Mayor Menena. Remember it." She eyed the valuable gold chains again and gulped as greed choked her throat. "Just in case you're interested in — in anything from land, I'm the one to talk to."

Anosthea's left cheek twitched. Her voice became syrupy as she cooed, "Are you now? The infamous Menena. My, my." She let go, whirled around and disappeared into the surf.

"Hey! Wait!" Menena's voice found its haughtiness again. "Whatever you've heard about me, it's all lies! I'm sure we can arrange —" Menena rose, only to feel the strong hand of a second mermaid guard on her shoulder. She glanced at the surprisingly slender fingers. The web between them reached only to the first joints. They would've easily have passed for a girl's, were it not for the fingernails that were long, pointy and slightly curved like talons, and felt just as sharp against Menena's skin.

"You. Wait. Now," gargled the woman, towering almost a head taller than her and glaring down angrily at the raven. Everything from her fair features to her sporty build and the pale skin contrasting the black tail hinted at the two guards being sisters.

"Yes, yes. Whatever you say," Menena replied after a moment of exchanging glances. She averted her eyes, pulled her clothes tighter and buttoned up her half-exposed chest again. This was going about as well as the interrogation hours ago at the hands of the Count, she feared.

~

Minutes later, a triangular wave approached the beach again. Anosthea rose from the waters, carrying a circular shell almost twenty inches across. She sat down on the beach opposite of Menena, pulled part of her tail up like a pair of thighs and opened the brown rock-like container she had placed between them.

Menena pinched her eyes. The inside of the unsightly thing was coated with pearly nacre and sparkled blindingly in the colors of the rainbow. Lumps of meat and seaweed were arranged in a circle.

"A gift of food, for a start."

Menena's eyes narrowed as suspicion crept into her voice. "Thank you, but I don't think I should accept it."

"Should you not?" Anosthea raised her thin eyebrows. "You know, some gift-givers might take that kind of rejection for an insult."

"Oh, none meant, your — fish-ness? I sure hope you don't —"

Anosthea offered the shell again. "Maybe just a bite then? It's delicious."

Menena turned her head slightly away and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not all that much of a raw fish eater, thanks."

The mermaid sighed. "You are never satisfied, are you? It's an acquired taste, these fishes. Worthy of a queen, my dear. And look how small these pieces are. You'll barely feel them going down your throat. Here, just look at that." She flicked her finger against the tiny lump, and it disappeared into a flash of sparks.

"Neat trick. Where has it gone?" frowned Menena.

"To lead the way for the others," grinned the young witch.

Flick, flick, flick. The flat dish was empty.

"No, seriously. Where has it — urrp — gone?" burped Menena. Her eyes grew big.

"Into my stomach?" She fumbled frantically over her belly. "You dared put it into my stomach?"

"Well, you would've put up a struggle otherwise," smirked Anosthea as the woman in front of her jumped to her feet and spun to flee.

"Nah, ah, ah," continued the mermaid, shaking one webbed forefinger. The guardians' tridents connected with a solid metal clang right before Menena's chest. Their hands shoved her back towards the surf.

"What do you want?" Menena screamed angrily.

"You insulted our feeder. You wronged her. She might be forgiving, but I am not," Anosthea declared as she rose on her tail.

"I don't even know what a feeder is!" hissed Menena. "I told you, I never had dealings with —" She fell silent. Her eyes followed the mesmerizing pendulum of a big silver medallion dangling from Anosthea's raised hand. The blue stone was the size of a very large egg, but she recognized the overall shape and the iridescent color.

"Barbara," Menena whispered with dry lips.

"The Holy Feeder you treated so unkindly," Anosthea replied with a nod.

Menena clenched her fists. "Holy! She was a witch! A mean, man-stealing witch! She took my only love, and she deserved everything she got out of her dabbling with magic!"

The young mermaid with the green hair snaked closer. "A witch? You stupid dirtwalker! That sweet girl is no witch! Never was, never will be. You want a witch? How about me?"

She leaned on Menena, forcing the shopkeeper to her knees as the fish tail's heavy, slippery, muscular weight bore down on the thighs of trembling woman. Faint heat spread through Menena's legs, yet the sensation went unnoticed as she winced away from the girl yelling into her face, "You green-eyed harpy, you almost ruined everything I worked for! Welcoming the new Feeder was to be a gentle, moving ceremony with lots of touching and stroking and licking, but nooo, you just had to turn poor Barbara into a beached whale with your weeds and your forced milking! Damn you, you made me forgo our Feeder's first milk, and that is something I won't forgive!"

She hollered on, "And you had the height of cheek to steal the precious juices from our Feeder's breasts! Fattening yourself with it!" Anosthea's fingers grabbed and squeezed the plump breast before her. Menena shrieked, more from surprise than pain. Anosthea let go and sniffed her own fingertips. "Yerch! You reek of your udder ointment, dirtwalker! Oh, after all these years of keeping your skin luscious and soft, I think you're ready for something much more potent, eh?" Anosthea raised a small vial. "Did you know there are plants in my world that make your Milkmaid's Friend look like a salad? This here will help broaden your horizon quite a bit." She smiled mischievously as she pulled out the cork. "Guards!"

~

Menena jumped back and slapped her hands over her mouth. "Mmmmft not gonna drink that!" rang her muffled scream. "You stay aw—"

The mermaid cocked an eyebrow. "You know, it's not all about you," she scoffed, then downed the vial's content herself. She shivered and shook, drew a face and squeezed her arms against her flanks. "Ugh! Yuck! The gods, that stuff's vile." Her hands grabbed the golden chains dangling from her neck and threw them back over her shoulders, baring her chest. "Ooh! Mmh. Oh yes, it begins. Nnnh!" Her fingertips rubbed over her nipples. "Oh my, that's interesting. Haahhn! So — sensitive. Itching. Oh yes. Yes! Only a few moments now, my sisters. Come and get your share." She extended her arms invitingly.

The pair of guardian mermaids slithered closer, lowered themselves and embraced Anosthea with one arm each, framing her girlish body and the surprisingly large hips left and right.

"Yes — now — Mmmmgh!"

Anosthea's firm, average hemispheres quivered and stretched, swelling bigger in moments. As their mass grew, they sagged visibly. The guards each caught one with a cupped hand. Anosthea moaned louder. Another jerk and writhe, and to her aides' gentle kneading, the three-quarter spheres kept on swelling into full, soft, dangling pears. Her nipples became deep red succulent strawberries and pointed upwards as their foundations grew taut with multiplying milk.

"So full! Must spend — hurry! Yes — drink — drink now!" she moaned and grabbed the back of the guards' heads, pulling them in. The guardians raised the ripe melons and suckled the swollen teats. Anosthea swayed with closed eyes. Her tail twisted and coiled aimlessly. Moments later, the heavy, muscular trunks of her handlers joined in. More snake-like than fishtails, they braided themselves around Anosthea's and turned their lower bodies into a slippery mass of writhing tentacles that held the triptych of moaning women upright.

Menena stared wide-eyed. She should be running, she told herself. Yet she couldn't tear her gaze from those three bodies squirming, their arms and tails locked in carnal frenzy as greedily pouting lips teased mouthfuls of milk from throbbing nipples. The mature raven ate up every minuscule variation of the delirious expression on the young witch's lust-crazed, sweaty face and every single thrust of her chest. Seeing Anosthea's now enormously swollen breasts as they throbbed and force-fed gushes of milk into the overwhelmed mouths of the guardians that made their cheeks bulge and their lips and chins drip, she found her own fingers moving towards the entrance of her rapidly moistening cave.

~

"The gods, oh the gods," stammered Anosthea. Her head dangled devoid of strength. She hung limply between the two guards with her arms over their shoulders. The bloated bags on her chest had emptied their ample servings into the insatiable mouths of the hulking mermaids and stood firm and youthful again with only her hard swollen nipples testifying to the amazing display.

She moistened her lips. A thick clear stream of her overflowing juices seeped out from underneath her wide belt, showing plain as day against the thin glossy layer coating her fish tail. "So good. Oh so good. Giving milk ... oh, if I had known this earlier, I would've —"

"Can I go now?" Menena's voice dripped as thick with envy as Anosthea's crotch with juices and grated through Anosthea's afterglow. The raven straightened her clothes and cursed inwardly. She had been that close. The itching between her legs did nothing to mellow her. She hissed on, "Have you humiliated me enough by showing that anybody in the world can on a whim have more pleasure and more breast than me?"

Anosthea straightened. Her hand scooped up a dollop of the liquid lust crawling down her fish tail's front. "Look at that. Look how generous I've been. We call this love juice. It heightens the pleasure. And it has many uses. You feel like you've been left out? Maybe feel like sampling a bit of mermaid love?" She moved her fingers and watched the thick ropey threads of lube moving between them.

Menena's brow curled in revulsion. "What? You think I'd want to taste your — your fish drippings? You're sick!"

"Well, if your mouth's lips don't want a taste —"

The mermaid moved like a snake. Before Menena had a chance to react, Anosthea's cupped hand squeezed the gob of slime through the cloth covering her crotch. Menena fended off the kneading fingers and staggered back. She held her groin, then her hands jerked away. The raven stared at her glistening palms.

"You sick — fish snake thing! You're disgusting! You're —"

Her eyes bugged, and her eyebrows rose. "Ooooh — oh the gods," she stammered, hunched and sagged to her knees. Her tongue slowly moistened her lips. A shudder ran through her body. She crammed half her fist into her mouth and bit down on her forefinger's knuckle. Her belly convulsed in ecstasy.

"—Surprisingly arousing?" Anosthea finished Menena's interrupted yell with a smile. She crossed her arms over her chest, raised her glazed hand and licked her own tangy, salty taste from her fingers. "Oh yes. Even a simple brush against the thin coat on our scales is enough for you dirtwalkers to get all wet or cock-hard, but a handful of the inner juices against your dried-up flaps? Oh, you'll soon die laughing, my dear."

"You wouldn't! Names of the gods, you will not dare lay a finger on me! Don't you know who I am?" Menena slowly rose again. Her lubricated crotch blazed with unfulfilled arousal, and it only heightened her defiance. Her rage fought back the lust radiating from her soaked, dripping snatch.

Anosthea shrugged with her arms akimbo. "Oh, I know who you are. You're the one who almost sent our precious Feeder to an early grave! You're the one who —"

"Yap yap yap! Quiet! I'm talking now, and you'll listen to me!" Menena cut her off. Fists raised in anger, she took a determined step towards the young mermaid, and Anosthea backed away involuntarily, her face now a mask of confusion as she stared at the red-faced woman.

"You — how — gods, I can smell your boiling clam from here, how can you even walk or talk?!"

Menena's voice echoed over the beach as she hollered herself into rage. "What are you going on and on about? Oh yes, I was angry! But did I treat her that badly? You think I should have kept her under my roof after she stole my David? You think I should've lain awake and listened to them fornicating in my own house?" The raven punctuated each of her sentences with a knuckle shove against Anosthea's shoulder. The two guardian mermaids watched in mute surprise as the curvy woman sent their leader into retreat, hobbling and stumbling awkwardly on her tail towards the surf.

Menena went on, "Maybe it's the mermaids' way to hand around their husbands or what have you, but I'd like to think I've been very generous! I even offered her care and work when she became all milk-bloated! Could've had her burned, y'know? Oh, if someone has been wronged, it surely wasn't that blond floozy, but me!"

The young mer-witch felt her bile starting to stir as Menena's words sank in. Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head and rose higher on her tail, holding her own and stopping Menena's advance. "You know nothing of the pain and fear you forced upon her! Will I ever teach you now! Guards! Hold her down!" She fumbled through the contents of her belt. Glass vials and tiny earthen pots jingled faintly. The noises of her search drowned in Menena's angry shrieks as a well-placed slap of tail knocked the woman's feet out from under her and she went down in the guardians' grip, kicking up sand as she struggled in vain. Left and right, their heavy tails slammed on her spread-eagled arms and held her put.

"Now you're feeling strong, huh?" blustered the raven. "Three against one! You're — Mmmff! Gmmm!"

"Ouch! She bit me!" The guard jerked back and shook her hand.

"Yerch! You taste as fishy as you look, you — mmmf!" This time, the strong webbed fingers held her jaw well shut. Menena panted through flaring nostrils, and her narrowed eyes flashed angrily.

Anosthea bent over the immobilized woman. "You will be silent, you self-righteous shrew! How cold and hardened must you be!"

Her claws tore at Menena's chest and shredded the clothes without as much as breaking the raven's flawless skin. When Anosthea finally retreated, Menena's heavy bags sagged left and right, pancaking slightly as their unrestrained volume settled into its gravity-dictated shape. Goosebumps spread over the massive mammaries, and the nipples hardened in the fresh morning air. The mermaid raised her eyebrows with reluctant appreciation. Her fingertips circled one of the rough dugs.




Siren Song Ch. 09



Short and to the point: This is a Breast Expansion Fetish story. If B.E.'s not up your alley, then you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

 Thank you.

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Siren Song: The Final Chord

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

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First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2014-06-01

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to CoffeePilot for the time and patience.

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Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century.

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Obscure inspirational music reference:
"Step out into the storm and scream / I am here, I am free" — Juli, Perfekte Welle (translated from German)

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It is the fall of the year 1225 on the world of Altaerna, forty years after Barbara joined the mermaids.

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Chapter 32: Blood in the water, shells on the graves


The mermaid's pale hand, feminine in proportions and yet bigger than a man's, snaked over the rim of the boat. Her long claw-like fingernails dug into the wood. Without any treacherous noise, her slim face rose over the edge. Red-hot hate marred her fair features that were framed by dark green-blue hair hanging straight down with a few stray strands clinging wetly to her square, clenched jaw and the high cheekbones. Straightening her toned arms, mimicking the gentle sway of the boat to not give away her presence, she propped her womanly torso up. The man who stood with his back to her seemed to shrink as more of her amazonian physique rose from the waters. Her equally muscular fish body with the narrow, semi-transparent, veiny fins coiled into the boat. Yard upon yard of the tapering scale-covered trunk snaked up on the unsuspecting sailor's legs until its end lay like a snare around his feet.

"Thhhhh—," cut her hiss through the backdrop of waves and wind.

"—Thhhese waters are forbidden to your kind," she sibilated on, her next words a promise: "Now you die."

He spun around, and the living noose tied up instantly. He lost his footing, but couldn't fall as her body rolled up around his legs like a tentacle, spinning him around and dragging him closer while she rose higher, revealing her towering height as she slowly spread her strong arms and bent her long fingers into claws. The last flash of dusky sunlight sneaking under the low-hanging rain clouds glowed on the edges of her talons ready to dig into his throat to slice and dice and eviscerate.



Two days earlier.



Gusts of autumn wind blew leaves across the deserted graveyard and made them dance around the headstones. Every now and then music and singing from the town in the distance carried faintly across the fields. No one came out to the solemn reminders of life's fleetingness on a day of celebration like this.



The fingertips of the lone woman in her twenties brushed over the withered face of a tombstone with many, many names on it. Her head hung. She didn't hear the approaching footsteps on the mossy ground.

"So this is the big secret," an old voice behind her stated flatly. She jumped up and spun around in surprise. The wiry, aged and yet quite imposing man stood a few yards to her side, resting his frame on a richly ornamented walking staff almost two feet taller than himself. His robe was expensive; its colors shone even in the twilight of the early evening under the overcast sky. Rain clouds loomed at the horizon, and the wind picked up again, tousling his gray hair.

"Secret?" she hemmed nervously, holding her arms crossed over her chest and tugging at the sleeves of her raggedy gown that seemed decades out of place.

He pointed the foot end of his staff at the crimson spot in front of the tombstone. "The red shells appearing over night, fall after fall. One at the stone of all those lost to the sea, then in the last years the other at the former mayor's. Some people started whispering about a ghost or a revenant. I'm quite happy to see it's one of the living." His eyes measured her curves up and down, and reverie entered his voice as he added "Very, very much alive, I gather. Oh do forgive an old man who has to be polite ex officio for a chance to be brash and blunt, and I'll come right out and say you're more than her equal when it comes to the balcony. Quite a feat in itself, besting legendary Menena's younger self on her own turf," he chuckled.

The old-timer stepped to the stranger's side. They faced the tombstone together, and he sighed. "Ah, Menena. I'm thankful she lived to see her efforts bearing fruit. You hear the singing?"

"The celebrations of Town Day, I know," the young woman replied, brushing an unruly strand of her long blond hair back behind her right ear. "The day the Count's order arrived that granted the town rights to this sorry bunch of houses, ten years ago. Yes, I can't deny she's been good for the town after all, even if she was ever the mean screw," sighed the young woman.

"Hah, yes, was she ever!" chuckled the old man. "Mind you, she changed a lot. Besides her duties as a Mayor, I wager she nursed half the town alive today. Amazing feat for a woman who couldn't stomach any milk at all."

The girl looked across the field of withered stones. "She just needed a big gulp of the right kind every now and then," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Please, tell me more."

"Mighty fine teacher she became when age mellowed her. Mellowed her a little, I should say. Oh, the days when she bargained with the Count! His face always turned beet-root red when she whipped out her tits right in the middle of a debate because she heard a dried-up mother outside, begging for a little milk."

The old man chuckled and leaned in. "A word between us, lass: She did it on purpose. He was so stumped, she bilked him for almost all he was worth. Yes, that was Menena for you!

"Only a few of us old ones remember how she started out." He frowned. "You're too young by far to have known her as the belle dame sans merci. You're not from around either. And yet there's a familiarity right here, in your face and your, if I may say so again, eye-catching curves."

He scratched his trimmed gray beard. "Many years ago, there was a lass with features just like yours. Got into a fight with Menena. Didn't end well for her, of course. Nobody fought Menena and won, except Death, and if he got the better part out of that victory is up for debate.

"So the girl disappears without a trace. Rumors start flying, despite this being Menena we're talking about. You know the gossip. Ooh, girl walks into Menena's shop, never comes out again, that kind of talk. Menena got a very unwelcome visit by a few of the Count's guards. Lucky for her, the town's nurse saw the girl leave, so she was off the hook. Must've shaken Menena, for she disappeared for a day and returned quite a bit more approachable.

Anyway, the girl never showed up again. Some say she had a thing going with the smith and innkeeper of the coach post up the coast when he was still a fisherman, but that it went sour and she ran even further. I wouldn't know. I only saw her once but I still can remember those huge — err, I mean —"

"Anton?" she gasped. "Anton the store clerk? — Anton the Mayor?"

"Barbara—?!" he returned in surprise, only to shake his head. "No, I'm just being daft. It's been four decades ... are you perchance her daughter? Her granddaughter even? Of course! Of course, this explains it! Never would've guessed, the gossip made her such a nature's child, but — so she ran off to the big city after all. Nice to know she passed a bit of her story on in the family."

The young woman chuckled. "I don't know about the big city, but did she ever make it big."

"Good, good — " He fell silent for a pensive moment.

"You won't have to worry about mystery shells anymore," she said quietly. "I only came to bid my farewell. This is no longer my home. It hasn't been for quite a while. Now I'll go back to my new ... lands, never to return here."

"Forgive and forget at last, in the family's name, then?"

She looked straight at him, with eyes holding more wisdom than befitted her face's youth.

"People never forget. Forgive? Maybe. Most of the time, things that seemed so big and hurtful as they happened just fade and blur with time, and as they become unimportant and trite, it's more fulfilling to extend a hand than to shake a fist. Maybe that's all the forgiveness anyone can hope for."

She turned around. The whole of her motion made it clear she considered this talk over.

Leaning on his staff, Anton stood mutely with his eyes on the tombstone until the wind carried off the sound of her footsteps slowly disappearing in the distance.



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Chapter 33: Into the Blue Yonder


"Die, son of the dirt!" The mermaid's slimy tail constricted. The gaps between her fish scales widened as her straining muscles bulged. The bones in the sailor's legs creaked, ready to snap under the crushing pressure.

"Cha —," the trapped man groaned, then inhaled sharply against her tail's murderous embrace and finally barked into the angry face glaring down on him, "Cha'gura of Red Coral Reef, it's me, you blind eel! Me, David!"

The maiming clutch yielded for the moment. The hulking mermaid pulled him close all the way and leaned over him until he felt her bare heavy breasts' pointy nipples brushing against his chest. Cha angled her huge head, narrowed her big eyes and looked the dwarfish catch in her solid coils up and down. Her face relaxed, and her fangs disappeared behind her bee-stung lips as they curled into the hint of an embarrassed smile.

"Oh. Sorry." She giggled sheepishly and sank lower on her tail, putting one arm akimbo and ruffling her dripping hair with the other hand. She averted her head yet still kept the bundle of man wrapped up in her fishtail's coils. "Y'know how it is, the air, the eyes — "

"Or so you tell me, every — single — time," Dave groaned. "Care to let me down now?"

Her upper body, from her hips to her shoulders almost a whole foot and a half taller than his, slid up against him. "That I don't know," she laughed, angling her head the other way as she snake-danced slowly, balancing out the rocking of the boat, grinding her hip on his. Her right hand's fingertips sneaked into the neck of his tunic and played over his collarbones, and he jerked in her tail's coil as her left hand grabbed and squeezed his buttocks. "You might be an impostor, taking advantage of this helpless mermaid's poor eyesight. Only one way to be sure, y'know. Also, sailors wanting to pass have to pay tribute." Her long tongue slithered out and traced her lips. "Lots and lots of hot and salty tribute."

"Cha, I'm way too old and worn for you," he sighed.

"Oh?" Her fingertips followed his cheek down to his jawline and under his chin, lifting it gently to her pouting lips. "I don't see a wrinkle, little hu-man. And I feel a very firm and virile fisherman in my snare." The loop of her tail around his groin pulled tighter for a second. She twitched forward, and her mouth was by the side of his face now. "And then some," she added whispering in his ear. "Your chest might be but a morsel, yet beneath your belt, you're just the size this big lonely girl needs now." Her tongue flicked against his earlobe. "Deal for you, every mermaids' wet dream: I get a peek and a taste of the snake of legends, and I'll push your boat out to Isla Barbara, all the way. We can do both at the same time, if you'd like me to."

She kissed her way back to his mouth, pouting to at least keep a semblance of equal size to their lips while her right hand cupped the whole of the back of his head.

"Cha," he managed to squeeze out between her hungry nibbles and smooches, "mmf — don't you thmmmmk you've growmmmmf big enoummmmft?"

Her tail unrolled slowly; she grabbed his thighs with her huge hands and put him down on the swaying planks again. "In the ocean, bigger is better," she smiled. "I can take on sharks now, darling. After the growth from two or three more bellyfuls, I'll be squeezing whales in half with my tail's snares. What more can a guardian hope for than to become but the biggest beast of them all, mmh?" Her long fingers deftly undid the rope girdle around his loins.

"Don't you think it's better to share with the oth—ooaahh! Oh the gods! Cha, oh heavens, you're crazy!" moaned David as she nuzzled his crotch and her long slippery tongue coiled around his already half-erect cock like a curious tentacle.

Her cheeky tongue disappeared into her mouth again. "Share? Oh David, Feeder's companion, Seeder of the Sisters, you're a never-ceasing fountain, there's plenty to go around. No matter how hard I try to drain you, you'll be full and ready again so very soon, so why deny this lonely watcher her little reward?"

The huge face blinked him the nicest puppy dog eyes, and he gave in.



He knelt by the rear side of his boat and grabbed the rim. The mermaid rested by and around his legs with a sizable length of her fishtail still coiling up around him while the rear end and the huge fins hung overboard and flapped aimlessly. Water gushed up every now and then and showered their bodies. She scraped the side of her palm over the scaly onset of what passed for her thighs and spread another gob of her lubing, arousing slime over his rod, massaging him gently yet thoroughly to fully erect size.

"So, you're finally ready to leave dry land behind and join us?" smirked the mermaid. The eleven inches of David's heavy cock filled her slippery palm. Her other hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently between her fingers. "You know there's an old saying? On the day he comes to stay, his tools will grow, all maids to sway."

Cha pouted and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I'm not quite feeling your tool's sway yet, darling. You're quite the hunk compared to other sailors I've tasted, but to a big girl like me, all your dirtwalkers' dangling lures, no matter how thick or thin, are barely a mouthful. Mmmph —" She put her head forward and pressed his purple glans against her soft lips. Running her tongue around the hot peach at her mouth's gate, she began to suck. Her cheeks fell in, then her slippery lips opened just wide enough to let the malleable cone inside.

He grabbed the planks hard. Heat spread throughout the root of his cock, deep between his legs.

"Cha! Gods, what are you doing? It never felt like t—this — oh heavens!"

The fire filled his balls, and then his balls filled his sack. Any wrinkle in its delicate skin disappeared as the two testicles, throbbing slowly, swelled until big juicy apples dangled in the taut bag between his legs.

"Mmmh!" moaned Cha admiringly as she saw the wave of growth wander along the shaft towards her face. Veins bulged, and David's cock gained another half inch of girth as it inflated down the increasing length. Cha's head was gently forced backwards while she kept her lips locked in the groove behind his glans.

The cock's meaty expansion entered her mouth. Her lips were spread apart, and her cheeks bulged around the juicy head. She licked and sucked with closed eyes, teasing him bigger until the back of his glans popped out of her greedy kiss.

"Mmmwaah! Oh yes, now that's a mouthful for a hungry girl!" she blurted out, little droplets of saliva spraying from her glistening lips. She held the huge organ in a stranglehold, though her fingers no longer touched her thumb. "That's just the right tube to deliver all that seed brewing in your balls!"

He stared in disbelief. "Cha, it's — longer than my thighs! Thicker than my hand's width! This would befit a giant twice my size! Goodness, I thought only my wife could bring it forth like that! What did you do?"

"Oh my!" laughed the mermaid, and her breasts quivered. "Wish I could take the credit. Believe me, if I had the knowings for that kind of magic, I'd be plucking meself a bundle of fresh sailors every other day just so I never run out of cock to stuff into my hole!" She wiped the froth from her lips and continued, "Didn't you listen to the saying? You've finally come to stay, and, well, now you've really grown just the kind of sway a mermaid enjoys. We didn't want to make you feel like you're not up to the task before, b'cause you give awesome seed, and Barbara, she can get you to size just fine, but you've been a bit lacking, size-wise, for the rest of us. Well, no more! Now you're our proper Seeder!"

Still sitting with his legs apart, he felt for his balls and cupped a pair of coconuts in a web of throbbing veins. Above them, the swollen tissue of his cock stood at an upward angle, slightly curved like a saber and with the apple-sized cone of his glans jumping a hand's width beyond his knees.

"You're saying it'll stay that way?! That's crazy! It's unwieldy! It won't fit into a pair of trousers. It was hard enough hiding it before, but now —"

The mermaid chuckled. "Trousers? Where we're going, you don't need trousers! Why hide it? Just leave it floating in its majesty! Be proud! Besides, I'm sure I can coax another inch or three from it." She grabbed the trunk with both hands, opened her mouth wide and pulled him closer. Her greedy lips sealed up halfway down the seventeen inches, and inside the warm cave, her frenzied tongue whipped her salvia into foam.

"Cha! Gods! Cha, you —"

"Mmmpht."

He grabbed the back of her head and felt the cool wet silk of her hair in his fingers while his cock's nerves sang in his mind about the ribbed roof of her mouth and the tightness of her throat.

"Oh yes, Cha —"



"Cha —," panted David, struggling to open his eyes against the overwhelming delights that slowly boiled his brains.

"Mmmh—?" She raised her eyebrows, but her mouth didn't let go of the glans that filled her cheeks. She kept on licking and sucking, putting her agile mermaid tongue to good use. Thick drops of salty liquid already seeped from the dilated hole in the tip, and Cha slurped them down thirstily.

"Gnnh! Cha, we're — your tongue! — Going in circles —"

"Mmm—hm," she nodded.

"No — I mean, the boat — going nowhere —," groaned David, struggling against the overwhelming desire to pant like a horny dog.

Her hands kept on working the engorged trunk, slippery with her saliva, the copious pre-cum of her catch and the slimy lubricant that her fish half offered aplenty. Grabbing him harder for a moment, she let the bulbous head pop from her mouth.

"Not my fault if your oar's a bit crooked, sailor," she laughed salaciously as long threads of liquid descended from her lower lip. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of anger beneath the glow of obvious adoration.

"Mmmgh — mmmgh — gnnmmmgh!" she groaned, throwing in three fast pumps that took his massive member halfway down her widened throat.

Sh—plop. Cha licked her lips, holding the fattened cock in one hand while spreading the gobs of liquid that collected on the onset of her impressive breasts over their soft skin. She looked up from under frowning eyebrows.

"You're not willing to give your tribute to me. No man, seeder or otherwise, has ever held out for so long. Maybe I should cut it off and take it back home to see how long it'll last then." She drew one of her sharp claws along the veiny trunk that would've kept three hands and a pair of lips busy. Of course she saw to it that her claw went against its stroke, angling the point and edge well away from the skin of the aroused pole and the meshwork of throbbing swollen blood vessels underneath. "So why should I keep my part of the deal if the other party doesn't own up?"

"You're — mmmh — not willing to swim a straight line, so there's that," he replied as dryly as he could while her warm and wet ministrations went on. David knew he couldn't resist the giantess' expertly delivered pleasures much longer; the first twitches deep down in his augmented balls were already beginning and he needed all his focus to keep the impending release at bay.




Siren Song Ch. 09



"Touché, my dear," she laughed. "Oh well, let's end this. Much as I like it, my tongue's getting sore." Not, Cha added in the back of her mind as she squeezed and prodded and sucked the red glans into her mouth again, locking her lips into the ridge behind the peach-skinned head. All of her fish half slithered overboard until she wiggled her fertile human hips and buttocks over the rim. Her hands grabbed the edge, and she lowered herself deeper into the water until the wood pressed into her ribs, with her pumpkin breasts dangling over the edge into the boat and holding her upper body in place. Her tail struck strongly and with purpose side to side now and the cockleshell boat picked up speed. Dave grabbed the planks by her hands. Her swaying motions translated into the most arousing sight from above, with her huge head on the athletic, muscle-packed shoulders bobbing left to right and back again, pulling the firm, hot trunk with it. Underneath, the bells of her breasts clanged. Dave's panting accelerated. The flood rose from his balls and squeezed through his cock. Cha's lips felt the pulsing of the pipe between the two hard sponges of erectile tissue as his seed shot through it and squirted in white ropey jets from the throbbing head. The ample serving slithered down her tongue which she held flat against the underside of his glans, tickling the sensitive band of skin to the rhythm of his eruption.

"Mmmh—!" Cha moaned happily through her nose. Finally. She smiled and swallowed and swallowed. Just like the sea, like the warm sea. And so much, so very much!

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Chapter 34: Last Night On Earth


One day earlier.



Slowly the clatter of hooves and the grinding and rumbling of wooden wheels won out over the rhythmic clanging of the hammer on the anvil. The bare-chested smith put the hammer aside, dipping the pair of tongs with the red-hot horseshoe into the water bucket. Steam welled up. Outside the forge, a horse neighed and snorted. The tall broad-shouldered craftsman wiped the sweat from his brow, stirred the embers then walked out onto the courtyard. He raised a bucket and poured the cool water over his head, ruffled his dark curls with just a hint of silver in them and smiled broadly. His arms spread wide in greeting. The gesture encompassed the smithy, the stable and the small tidy boarding house that made up the coach post.

"Welcome to David's Inn!"



"No need for the song and dance routine, it's just me, no passengers this time," laughed the slender red-haired freckled young man on the coach box as he tied the reins.

"Barry Junior! Hard to believe how much my fish trader's youngest son has grown up. How's your second coach trip alone going?"

"Pretty good so far. I just wished I'd arrived a day earlier. Town Day's going to be over when I get there tomorrow. At least there were no troubles on the road, and the wheels and axles are holding up pretty well. "

"Glad to hear that. I'll take a look at the hooves later. What's the news about your old man? Has he recovered?"

Barry drew a face and shrugged while he unhitched the horse and led it to the trough in front of the stable. "He's doing — oh, he could do better, but he lives. We can't all be so impervious to the ravages of time like you are. How old are you supposed to be, eh? Pushing sixty? A seafarer of sixty should at least have gray hair and a few wrinkles. Damnation, Dave, I'll be happy to look like you do once I'm nearing thirty."

"Well, you've got a few years ahead of you until then," the smith shrugged with a wry grin and put his hands to his hips which only highlighted his ripped midriff and the V-shape of his torso. "Healthy eating's the secret, kid. Lots of milk does a body good."

"Yes, and your inn is a beaut as well, Dave. Is there anything you can't do? Fisherman, smith, innkeeper — and I swear, after a night's rest here, me horses run the last leg of the way to the town more lively than on any other part of my travels."

Dave smirked. "It's the water. Best well in all the shire. Why d'you think I turned my hut into a stop along your grandfather's tracks? Come on in, let's have dinner. Besides, the kitchen is Lilian's domain now, she's the innkeeper."

"Oh yes, Lilian," Barry mumbled and blushed a bit when he thought of the young woman who had arrived as a vagrant peon and stayed as a saucy factotum. "She sure is — something."



"Anything else?" suggested the full-figured brown-haired maid with a smile. She put the crocks with water in front of Barry and David, then leaned over, put her elbows on the wooden table and offered them a prime view of her bulging assets that the low-cut bodice over her white chemise could barely contain inside the frame of her arms. "See anything you like? It's all up for grabs today," she teased. "Why don't you later treat your tongue to a twenty year old — wine," she added.

"Oh no," David declined most courteously, "I couldn't burden my conscience with plundering the larder that delights our patrons."

"Careful, Master David! This precious wine might turn stale and sour if you don't uncork it in time," Lilian replied with half-lidded eyes and licked her lips. Her fingers played with the frilled hem of her bodice.

She sniffed with her nose high in the air. "Oh do excuse me," she added with a giggle and twisted a strand of her wild chestnut curls around her fingers. "I think my oven's heated well enough so I can slide your juicy loin in all the way." She flicked her fingertip against David's nose, rose, and danced off into the kitchen, swaying her round hips while she tied her mane back with a red bandanna.



"That wasn't what I think it was — was it?" Barry gasped. "And you spent the last two years with her under one roof, and you haven't even — well — though she throws herself at you like this? Are you no man?"

"A man who doesn't think with the things below his belt, kiddo," David shrugged. "I reckon in her heart that minx is kind of a gold digger, Junior. Nice to look at, for sure, and she keeps a tight ship in the kitchen and the regulars happy. You should hear her haggle when she's out stocking up! Nah, it's just our little game. I won't touch her, and she knows it. I'm married to Barb."

"Dave, Barbara's gone four decades this year," sighed Barry. "Oh well, if that's how true you stay to your vows, I won't say another word about it, you old monk!"



Outside the last sunlight had disappeared. Barry groaned as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his back. "Getting late, Dave. I'll camp out on the cart. Yes, yes," he added with a smirk and raised his splayed hand as David inhaled, "I know what you're going to say. I can leave it out there, no worries, why do I never take you up on your offer and spend a night in a comfortable bunk. Well, can't get any sleep if I don't know where my goods are, Dave. Hard habit to break."

"You sure you're not afraid that a certain little chestnut might sneak into your chamber and steal your virginity if you stay in her domain?" winked the fisherman.

"Dave—!" blushed Barry and glanced towards the kitchen to check if Lilian had been listening in.

David chuckled inwardly even after Barry had quietly closed the door behind him, then turned to Lilian as she brought another crock to the table. "Well?" he addressed her. "Seems there's a nice guy your age, all alone in the stable. He might not be as tired as he claims."

"Oh right, as if!" she snapped back with a crooked smile. "Him? What do you think of me?" She flicked her finger against David's nose. "I like my men experienced."

"Not going to happen, sweetheart," David replied, grinning as he shook his head.

"Little strokes fell big oaks, love. And one day you'll let me stroke your big oak of legend until it falls, Master David. Besides, he only shows up once every few weeks, and just the thought that he's got a girl in every village on his way —"

"Ah—hah, so he caught your eye after all, didn't he?" David interrupted and cocked an eyebrow.

Lilian fell silent and glanced at the closed door. The tip of her tongue quickly moistened the corner of her upper lip, then she jerked and blushed, quickly fumbling for the plates on the table while she squeezed out, "No! David! Really, I — he — you're — oh you — Aaugh!" She steamed off into the kitchen. David heard her muttering angrily over the clatter of the dishes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 35: The Visitor


The door opened, and a gust of wind swept in and made the candles flicker. Lilian turned her head to the late guest and raised an eyebrow.

A woman leaned against the door frame. The fair-haired arrival was tall, half a head taller than Lilian for sure, approaching David's height. Her slender shape swayed slightly as she pushed herself off the frame and walked towards the chest-high narrow table that doubled as the bar. Lilian measured her up and pursed her lips. Twenty years and a bit more; unsteady gait, worn clothes. The maid resisted the urge to sigh when she saw the outmoded dress with the stitches and the — ugh, she groaned inwardly and rolled her eyes. The lacy cloth spanning across the quite remarkable cleavage wasn't lace, it was a piece of fishing net clumsily sewn across the frail edges. Oh great, happy hour for the hayseeds again, was the thought simmering behind Lilian's aloof smile. And here I thought I'd get to close up early.

"Anything I can do for you, woman?" she asked while she kept on rinsing the stoneware jugs.

"You will call me Your Ladyship, girl," was the haughty reply that just for a moment caught Lilian off guard. "Your best spirits will do. Make it snappy."

"Buh— Ladyship? Spirits? Snappy?" gasped the barmaid. "Listen, girl, I like a laugh as much as the next innkeeper, but the way you've swayed across the floor, I'm not going to fill you up any further. This here is David's Inn, you've strayed pretty far from the Town Day celebration. I don't mind if you take a nap out back in the hay until you're sober again, but if you start making a scene in here I'll kick your drunken ass out, Your Ladyship."

The visitor giggled and leaned heavily across the bar, pinching Lilian's cheek. "Oooh, aren't you a feisty one?" she laughed while her unsteady gaze completely failed to make contact with Lilian's angrily narrowed eyes. "It'll be my last night out for years, and I'm not done yet. Here, for your troubles."

The round coin of solid gold jingled on the bar top. Lilian's eyes grew big. She'd never seen one so thick or so huge before.

"And I want your biggest and softest bed," chuckled the girl and flicked her forefinger at Lilian's nose. The barmaid jerked back and clenched her fists for a moment. Gold, declared another more practically inclined part of her mind. Lilian ground her teeth.

"Your Ladyship is going to find the liquor and the bed very much to her liking," she snarled as she quickly swiped away the coin into her apron and put a heavy, corked jug harshly on the bar.



"Everything fine?" asked David as he strolled across the room. "No trouble, I hope — oh the gods —" His voice trailed off. He looked the blond girl up and down, and she turned her shoulders back and blatantly advertised her female assets to him.

"Oooh, no trouble at all," she replied raunchily as she raised her right arm and laid it on David's shoulder, canting her hip while she lifted one heel and put her one knee over the other. "Hel—lo. You must be the smithing fisherman. Or fishing smith. Ah, I'll just call you Dave. Davey. My! You're blushing, you strong man you. That's soo cute!"

David cleared his throat. "I haven't seen you around the town," he remarked and trained his gaze on the blond's face, decently avoiding both Lilian's watchful stare and the vast amount of cleavage that shone through the fishnet-turned-lace over the guest's upper chest.

"Oh, I don't get out much," she replied. Her balance seemed a bit off again as she shifted her weight to her other leg. She stumbled and ended up clinging to David's sturdy shoulder, giggling while her fingertips traced the outline of his pectorals through his simple shirt. "Ooh, do excuse my clumsiness. Would the gallant knight mind leading me to something to sit down on?"

"He wouldn't mind," David answered as he steadied her along to the bench.

"He'd better," muttered Lilian under her breath.

Soon the blond and the fisherman sat chatting and the jug they shared between them emptied rapidly.



"You are full of stories, dear," cooed the blond. "It is late though and I'm going to retire now." She winked and struggled to her feet. "In a house guarded by such a strong man, I surely won't need to lock my door for the night lest some naughty, naughty rogue might take advantage of this here inebi — inibriba — ssssslightly squiffy girl who might be up for anything tonight." Her finger poked first into David's cheek, then she steadied herself and her fingertip traced his lips with sudden surprising precision while she cocked her head and raised her eyebrows.

Lilian's eyes followed the blond's long strides across the room. She frowned. The late guest's steps suddenly had none of the previous unsteadiness even though she must've imbibed the larger part of the jug. Lilian was about to spin away when just before the other woman turned the corner to the stairway the blond looked back over her shoulder straight at Lilian, flashed a grin and winked.

Lilian clenched her hands and stomped over to David who pensively scratched his evening stubble.

"You're not thinking about going up those stairs, David!" she hissed, leaning over the table and glaring down on him. "Don't you dare! For shame! She's young enough to be your daughter, old man!"

"Lilian, you're young enough to be my daughter, and that never stopped you from trying, y'know. It's none of your business."

"Well it is if you start squandering for her what you built with your own two hands, right here. I've seen her kind, those sultry eyes and the teasing and the giggle and all! She'll be your ruin! She'll trick you out of house and home!"

"Enough, Lilian! Takes one to know one, am I right?"

She reared away, her face paling in shock. "M—master David," she stammered. Her eyes filled with tears. "I —"

David gulped. "The gods, Lilian! I'm — I'm sorry, I — didn't mean to —"

He reached after her as she stormed away, then he slowly lowered his arm as she disappeared behind the corner to the stairs.



Lilian's fingers clenched around the hand rail of the stairway. Her tears didn't spring from pain or hurting, they itched with barely contained rage and her jaw ached from grating her teeth.

"Oh you blond floozy, you won't last that night here," she growled as she sneaked up the stairs. "This is my home now, I won't cede it to a tramp who just happens to shake her ass more than me."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 36: Rivalry


Lilian rapped on the bedroom door.

"Your highness? Do you need anything for the night?" she asked with a fake twitter.

"Ahhhhhh — oh, its you. Uh, er, no?" came the muffled reply that to Lilian's ears carried a hint of disappointment. "Thank you, Lily."

The grating of teeth could be heard down the corridor. "That's Lilian for you," growled the chestnut to herself, but her voice drowned in syrup as she continued louder, "Mistress, I do have another blanket for you, the nights are chilly."

"Oh. Well, do come in then. Us girls don't need to have secrets from each other, do we?"

Lilian took a deep breath and pushed open the door. She stepped across the sill and froze.

The blond reclined naked on the bed. She had piled up the bed's pillows behind her back and half-sat, half-lay on the head end of the mattress. Her body's toned and yet voluptuous curves made Lilian's stomach clench into an icy ball of envy. She'd estimated the visitor's rack to be on par with her own, possibly smaller and just pushed bigger and higher by a hidden band of cloth. Now Lilian had no choice but to accept that whatever wardrobe trickery the unwelcome visitor had done had been to reduce the appearance of the pair of firm, eye-popping watermelons. Either that, or they had doubled in size over the last minutes; a thought Lilian immediately dismissed. She blinked and kept staring.

The guest's long, tapering legs were spread wide, and the matted golden curls in her crotch hid nothing. The candlelight sparkled on the ropey dew that already coated her plump outer labia and the thick wrinkles of the inner lips. She licked her right hand's fore and middle finger that glistened just as moist as her well-groomed, soaked bush.

"You kinda caught me with my skirt down and wet-handed," smiled the young woman, shrugging sheepishly and canting her head.



Lilian gulped and raised her trembling hand to her lips. "B—big," she stammered, staring at the pair of breasts wobbling into a dangling position as the visitor turned over and climbed from the bed. The ass that was prominently on display as the girl turned about was the roundest yet firmest Lilian had ever seen. She knew her own impressive looks were but dirt compared to this naked goddess.

"Oh my goodness," twittered the blond and caught Lilian just as the chestnut's knees gave in. She straightened the limp maid against the wall. "Are you all right? Oh my darling, they really have you working too hard, don't they? Don't you worry, I've got y—"

Lilian's hands closed around the blond's upper arms. She wrestled the surprised girl around and shoved her against the wall. The fair silken mane feathered like a veil against the wood. When the back of her head banged against the wall, a surprised gasp escaped the guest's bee-stung lips, followed by a groan.

"Ah! Ugh! W—what are you doing? I —"

Lilian rose to her toe tips to get face to face with her stunned catch. She hissed, "You nothing. Why did you come here? What do you want from David? Who are you?!" Lilian's thumbs dug hard into the slim bicepses in her clutch.

"Ouch! I'm Barbara, David's wife, you priss," the stranger replied, then she grimaced and groaned quietly. Lilian's fingers held her upper arms in an iron grip.

"Uh—huh, Davey's wife." Lilian rolled her eyes, inching closer. "She's dead, forty years to this day. And even if she wasn't, you? Are you even twenty years old? Very convincing, darling. Try again?" She shook the tall blond. The back of Barbara's head connected painfully with the wall again.

"Nngh! Will you cut that out? It's true. Not all of us age," muttered Barbara, pinching her eyes. "Especially if we know the right potions."

"Oooh, so you're a witch now, too, huh?" Lilian paused just long enough for her display of contempt to reach full effect. "You may be a lot of things, but a witch you ain't. We've got our own traveling healer, and she's a proper witch. Has a blazing white coach and outrageous clothes and is a famous ambassador, and once when a guard made trouble, she just pulled out a seal and a parchment, and they bowed to her! Oh no, I'd say you're a whore wandering aimlessly and a gold digger, nothing else. And if you've come to stake any claim to this here place, then you're stepping on my turf, bitch."

Lilian let go of Barbara's left arm. Her skirt rustled, followed by the faint sound of metal over leather, then a sharp point touched the underside of Barbara's jaw. The writhing blond froze immediately.

Lilian growled on, "Your would-be husband smithed this dagger for me, y'know? Said I better learn how to use it, because it's a dangerous world out there for a young girl. Gee, I'd never have thought I'd be using it in my own home. My home, d'ya hear? Not yours! Now pack up your things, and for goodness sake put on some clothes, you dripping harlot. Oh yes, I saw how he ogled you. What, did you hear the tales of his lost love and decided you'd give it a try, what with being blond and tall? Well you won't, Barbara, if that is even your real name. I won't let you take advantage of the poor man! Get out of here if you value your face!"




Siren Song Ch. 09



"So you are the fire-spitting guardian of the house, aren't you? Now that is an honorable duty." As Barbara's voice changed from squeaky to confident, her fearful expression became a friendly smile and she straightened, gaining another inch on Lilian.

"I'm warning you! Don't you try anything funny! I'll gut you! Don't you think I won't!" snarled Lilian, ducking as she tensed her muscles.

"Hmmm—," crooned the blond, and Lilian's world took a spin through sugar-colored clouds.

The next moment, the maid found herself with her own back against the wall, sandwiched between the cool unyielding wood against her spine and the ample blond's warm rack squeezing up against her chest. The dagger dropped from Lilian's limp fingers, fell to the floor and stuck upright into the boards. She tried to raise her arm yet was unable to do so. The heat of Barbara's skin wormed through her clothes, and Lilian felt her strength draining away into that enviable landscape of curves.

"What — what are you — doing to me?" stuttered Lilian. Still humming that strange tune, the naked girl held her easily pinned against the wall. Her hands fumbled over Lilian's taut buttocks, grabbed a handful of the skirt's pleats and hiked up the coarse cloth over the wide hips. One of the stranger's thighs forced itself between Lilian's legs. A damp crotch left a long wet streak on her skin as its plump lips slurped up and down. The dominating guest thrust her hip against Lilian's thigh again and again. Ropey rivulets tickled warmly down the maid's leg.

"Gods, please, no," moaned the brunette, turning her head to the side. The smell of blond hair filled her nose, then gentle lips sucked on her shoulders and moved on to the base of her neck. The liquid dripping down her leg caught fire; at least it felt that way. The warmth ran along her skin and soaked deeper into her muscles. It climbed through her thigh, filled her crotch, and from one moment to the next, Lilian found herself panting in heat. The stranger hummed straight into her ear now. The weird little ditty without words etched itself into Lilian's mind.

"You know how they say a siren's song only fills the minds of men?" whispered the woman that held her effortlessly like a toy.

"W—what?" stammered Lilian. Her thoughts whirled, her mind was fogged. She realized that the touch of the skin of this oh so very female body with its ample breasts, flattened against and dwarfing her own remarkable pair, felt so incredibly good —

"It's a lie," breathed the visitor into Lilian's ear before she drew the rim of the auricle between her pouted lips. The tip of her moist tongue traced the shapes. Every drop of saliva, every thin layer of wetness soaked through the brunette's skin and fueled her blazing arousal.

"Lie to me some more," Lilian moaned loudly and clenched her own legs around Barbara. The lean leg between her thighs thrust stronger, and she ingested hungrily every rub and squeeze against her clit's deep roots. Her trembling fingers needed several attempts until she managed to open her bodice. Lilian swayed upright while Barbara kissed and licked and nibbled her way down across the exposed soft expanse of the chestnut's firm breasts. Lily gasped for air as her nipples disappeared one after the other between Barbara's experiences lips and were nurtured to hard size by the twitching tongue.

"Mmm — You're ripe — smack — I can — sllp — feel milk —," mumbled Barbara.

"Impo — oooooh! — ssible! Imp —hhhh!" Lilian managed. Barbara's splayed fingers cupped Lilian's voluminous chest. She kneaded and squeezed and rolled the firm youthful flesh, massaging towards the hard rubbery nipples.

"Oh yes — mmmpf — you are," Barbara insisted between gently pinching the dugs with her teeth. She kneaded more demandingly. "Mmh, first milk. Come now, be a good heifer."

"A — a heifer?!" The enchantment around her mind popped, and Lilian's hazel eyes focused. "Who you're calling a heifer, you —" Lilian pushed her captor away and put her fists to her hips, then slowly lost her angry stance. She rubbed her forehead with one hand and looked around at the room, then down the disarray of her clothes. "How — why did I even — why am I —"

"Sit down next to me," hummed Barbara and beckoned with her hands as she slowly retreated towards the bed. Lilian's feet moved all by themselves.

"Let me look at you," whispered the blond. "Come now, look me in the eyes."

"No!" protested Lilian, still moving forward. "That's how you weave your spells, isn't it?" She stared straight ahead at the wall while she spun and her buttocks came down on the bed to the left of Barbara. "I must — run you out of the house!" Yet she just sat there trembling as the struggle inside almost tore her apart. "Must — resist —"

"So headstrong you are, doe eyes," whispered Barbara's breath warmly into Lilian's ear. "You'll do."

"Do? Do for what?" Lilian turned her head in surprise, and her eyes met Barbara's sapphire gaze. She tried to look away, but those blue eyes — those beautiful blue eyes —

"Shhhh. Tell me," inquired the blond gently, "tell me what fuels your envy. What makes you fear and hate me so much? I'm not here to take a thing from you."

"I — I won't tell — you can't make me —" Lilian forced her teeth together.

"Your wish. Tell me, darling," hummed Barbara.

"Tits!" Lilian blurted out. "Gods, I thought mine are the best for miles, but yours are so huge yet firm! Oh, if only I could be your equal!"

"Really now? My, today's your lucky day. I do have enough to go around."

Barbara's slender fingers wrapped around Lilian's right wrist and guided the chestnut's hand over to her body. "She who asks shall receive. Take some from mine." She pressed Lilian's palm on her hard nipple. The girl's splayed fingers reflexively grabbed hold of the malleable spheres, and Barbara moaned arousedly. "Now touch your own!"

Lilian's nipples were hard with anticipation. Her forefinger tapped lightly against the right nub. She gasped. Tingling and itching spread from the faint contact through her whole chest, and her skin crawled with goosebumps. She quickly took her hand away, craning her head to catch sight of her breasts as their skin flushed.

"Haaah! What — is that?"

The crinkled nipple throbbed visibly. The wrinkles on its surface came and went as it pulsed in size, turning just a bit bigger with each throb until it settled at thimble size, more than twice as plump and long as before.

"No! How — how is that even possible?" stammered Lilian, suddenly afraid of her own courage.

"Even? Yes, let's even them out," Barbara replied. She reached around Lilian's back and tipped her left hand's forefinger against Lilian's other nipple.

"Stop that!" squeaked the girl as the throbs rippled through her skin again until her nipples matched. She let go of Barbara's breast and cupped her own. Her fingers pinched the firm protrusions as if they could squeeze the surplus flesh back into her breasts. Then her mouth fell open, and her eyes went wide.

"Gghhh!" rose from her throat, and she sat trembling with fingers splayed wide in front of her chest.

"Yes, they're very delicate," gulped Barbara, compassion in her voice as she quickly slid from the bed and knelt down in front of Lilian whose bulging eyes glittered with tears. "Oh my, poor thing. Should've warned you. Let me kiss it better." She grabbed Lilian's wrists and put the girl's hands on the bed left and right of her thighs. Her pouted lips brushed against the reddened dugs.

"There, there now," she crooned soothingly between fluttering kisses. "All better. Though we better not plump your melons any bigger."

"Th—throbbing," Lilian managed as her flat breath slowly became deeper again.

"Oh yes. Well, that you brought upon yourself," smiled Barbara.

"Oh no ..." Lilian stared down on her breasts, her eyes jumping left to right and back. The thimbles stretched once more. Warmth spread through the veins in her mammaries. Her areola puffed up, turning into small mounds on the ample spheres of her breasts. On top of them, her nipples plumped rapidly. The wrinkles disappeared for good on the dark skin of the pair of strawberry-sized round teats now crowning her promontory.

"Please — what am I going to do with these?" she muttered.

"Just do what comes naturally," Barbara replied. Her fingers brushed over the reddened breasts and settled on Lilian's right one, raising the orb to her lips. The fat juicy dug disappeared into her pouting warm mouth. Lilian's eyes closed halfway. She sagged forward, mashing her flesh pillow against Barbara's face.

"Yes — uuunngh! Oh yes, you — your —"

Wetness dribbled warm and sticky down the underside of her unoccupied mam. Lilian stared at the many thin trickles seeping from her nipple like from a sponge being squeezed.

"Milk—?"

Barbara let go. Her lips were glazed with the sweet pale liquid from Lilian's other breast.

"Oh, I knew you were ripe, dear. Come and taste the harvest." Her hands kneaded and pushed the other thick teat up in Lilian's face. The chestnut's eyes squinted at her own nipple that was now in her lips' reach, glistening invitingly like a piece of light-colored chocolate. Her lips pouted. After a moment's hesitation, they latched on to the thick fruit, and Lilian shut her eyes, replacing Barbara's aiding grip with her own fingers, kneading the sweet filling of her mammary toward the swollen itching spout that sprayed it generously into her mouth. A shiver ran through her body when Barbara returned to the other teat and drew gulp upon gulp of the first nurturing letdown from the young woman's breasts.



Lilian's teats were empty. Her lips still suckled and pulled on her left breast, but the only wetness was her own saliva coating most of her areola. She released her nipple and gently lowered her mam while gulping away the lingering sweetness in her mouth.

"Oh that was awesome," she mumbled, licking her lips. A shudder ran through her body as the blond released her other teat. Lilian's voice changed tone ever so slowly while she inquired, "Yet, what do you want? Really, now." She swallowed as Barbara raised her face and added quickly, "I'm grateful for this gift of puffies, but please don't do things to my head or body again."

"I'm just a visitor these days, dear," replied the blond. Her fingers wandered over Lilian's shoulder.

"So you don't want to take over this place?" Lilian's relief was palpable in her voice.

Barbara averted her head and smiled. "Sure is a nice place, dear, but I'm looking for someone."

Lilian slid a few inches away. "I knew it!" she replied angrily. "It's my David you want! You can't have him!"

"I never said it's David," Barbara smiled back at her. "I'm looking for —"

"Well you can't have Barry either! They're my men!"

"Maybe I'm just a fiend for the lusts of the flesh any which way I can get them?" smirked the woman. "Maybe I'm partial for the special tastes of a lady's crotch?"

Lilian's eyes narrowed. "Uh—huh. And you would leave in peace if your urges were satisfied?"

"Maybe?" the tall blond teased as she ran her fingers up Lilian's thigh.

"It's a deal then," Lilian replied, grabbed Barbara's head with both hands and made the blond stagger from the bed, pressing the surprised girl's face against her soft midriff. Moments later, Barbara's lips pouted and kissed Lilian's silky skin. Lilian guided the warm ring of soft lips that left wet circles on her soft smooth belly down towards her chestnut curls.

Without breaking lip contact, Barbara sorted her limbs, knelt down in front of Lilian and put her hands on the girl's knees, slowly opening them as she leant forward and rubbed her cheeks against the sweaty skin. Lilian let go and propped up her torso as she let herself sag down backwards.

"Oh Lilian, you're so supple. Show me how far apart you can spread your legs!"

Barbara's lips moved from one soft inner thigh to the other, kiss by kiss closing in on the well-padded crotch.

"I," gasped Lilian, her breath coming ragged now, "I — can put them — behind my shoulders —"

"Do you now? That I've got to see. Let me help you along a bit." The blond's hands grabbed Lilian's narrow ankles. The chestnut folded herself on the bed, and her plump labia rose over her wide ass cheeks like a dome of cream between her milky thighs. Barbara's fingers traced along the stout legs. She cupped Lilian's buttocks and struggled to raise their fleshy weight. The blond lowered her head. Her golden mane tickled over Lilian's crotch. Her warm lips pouted against the labia. Lilian twitched, mashing the moist lips against Barbara's chin, then she writhed and her legs came free, trapping Barbara's head between her thighs. She combed her hands through the golden mane and guided Barbara's mouth, aiming the kissing, sucking lips towards her hooded clit.

"Yes — good girl — yes —"

"Mmmfft!"

"Twist your tongue around! Aaagh!" Lilian gasped for air. "Yes — yes, like thaaaaaahhh!— that! Sate yourself — on me — and keep — your — uunnnhhh! — your snake tongue — away from my Dav—aaahaayyyiiid! Oh the gods! Yes! Yeeeee—"

The door was pushed open. Lilian's fogged eyes only saw a silhouette with a candle holder, standing frozen in the doorway.

"Oh my! Seems the pair of you is getting along quite nicely," said a male voice.



"David!" gasped Lilian and reared halfway with Barbara still lip locked on her crotch in her thighs' embrace. "Oh David, please, go away! Don't look at her, she'll bewitch you with her charms!"

"Why wouldn't I?" he smiled. "She is my wife after all."

"What?! No! No, she's just —," Lilian's voice collapsed into a lecherous groan, "Ugh is she good!" then continued, "an enchantress passing through!" Her body convulsed again. "The gods she's passing right through me! She — she — ooaaaahh!" The brown-haired girl lost her voice, threw her head left and right and bucked and writhed on the sheets while Barbara's tongue twirled around her clit.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 37: The Contest


Lilian's head bobbed faintly. Her whole body was limp in the afterglow.

"Can't — have him — is mine," she mumbled. "My house. David — mine."

"Oh you sweet fox, what will it take to make you see he's been mine for ages?" whispered Barbara as she kissed the salty sweat from the girl's cheek.

"Never," was the slurred answer. "Leave now. You promised."

Barbara laughed. "I only said maybe, and I have the older rights."

"Like hell you 'ave," mumbled the girl.

"Now there's an easy way to prove your rights. Tell you what, if you can take his cock, then you can have him," Barbara offered.

"What?!" interjected David. "Barb, you can't seriously —"

"Deal?" Barbara inquired.

"Deal," replied Lilian. Her voice lost the absent-minded slur as she wiped the sweat from her brow and focused her stare. "You're good with your tongue, I'll give you that. What do you take me for, you blond harlot? A tight virgin who doesn't know her way around a man's pecker? Soon as he's planted his root in me, he won't have eyes for you anymore."

"You'll scar her for life, Barbara," David sighed.

"Don't encourage that tramp, David!" frowned Lilian as she climbed from the bed. "She's not your wife, and I'll prove it! If all it takes to shut her up is to get your tool into me, then come here, David! I'll show you a good time! I don't mind her watching. It's been far too long!"

"Too long!" Barbara burst out laughing.



"Yeah, you just watch me now!" Lilian was by David's side in a heartbeat, pulled the tunic off his shoulders and knelt slowly while pulling down the garment. Her fingernails scratched lightly across his strong chest and the hard midriff. "Mmmh. Mine," she purred.

The tunic got caught on the root of his cock, only revealing the inverted triangle of David's pubes. Lilian rubbed her cheek against it and inhaled the blend of warm skin with a hint of musky sweat. "Oh dear, you've already lost, stupid girl," giggled Lilian as she shot Barbara a glance from the corner of her eyes. "See how hard he already is for me?" She ran her fingers along the concealed rod behind the rough cloth.

The flesh yielded easily, far too easily, to her touch. Lilian frowned, grabbed the rim of the cloth and pulled it down all the way.

"What is that?" she gasped and stared at David's groin. His cock was deflated and dangled limply, yet it was twice as thick and long as any hard-on she had ever seen, or taken care of. "A — horse! Like a horse! So huge! No, that can't be —"

Her fingers touched the silken skin halfway down the giant cock and rubbed towards the root. The foreskin pulled back from the blueish strawberry of the glans. The skin wrinkled before the ring of her fingers, giving proof that there was quite some room for growth. Her gentle probing thrusts did their work. The snake lengthened before her eyes. Soon it rivaled the cucumbers she occasionally enjoyed in the larder behind the kitchen, and it hadn't even started to rise yet. It just kept stretching longer, dangling almost to David's knees now.

"Oh I'd really like to see you try to plant that root," cackled Barbara behind her, lying prone with her head propped on her hands and her fingers fidgeting with a narrow golden ring.



David's incredible cock now swelled thicker and rose. The veins began to stand out. Lilian watched the blood pulsating along their twisted canals, feeding the monster's volume as it climbed before her eyes until gravity and pressure reached an impasse.

Lilian gulped. She couldn't even wrap her fingers around the thick trunk that stood straight a good twenty inches from David's hip. Its own bloated glowing weight forced it into a slightly downward curvature with the now more than apple-size cone of the glans bobbing at the end of the club under David's fast heartbeat.

She looked up at David who leaned with closed eyes against the wall. "I — I can't take that. Not even an inch," she muttered. "I'd rip my nethers open on that head alone! So that's why you kept denying me." Her fingers gently brushed against his flanks. "Oh David, you shouldn't have. So much cock! We can have other kinds of fun with it, you know?" Her eyes sparkled as she turned her head to Barbara. "Hah! You think you've beaten me? This only goes to show how much he cares for me! I won't give him up!" Lifting the trunk with both hands, she pressed a hungry kiss on the swollen erectile tissue near the root's underside and sucked on the silken skin, then licked towards the tip she held raised over her head. A thick vein pulsated under her wandering tongue.

"Mmmh. Kiss and lick it day and night. No! You won't have him! Mine!"

Her massaging thumbs along the finger-thick uretha milked a ropey thread of clear precum from the head that ran along the band at the underside, then dangled down onto Lilian's forehead. "Baptized in your love!" she moaned. "Yours forever!"

"Lilian, please don't," moaned David.

"Shh, love. I have a plan that'll get us rid of that witch. She can't be your wife if she can't take it either. You just give me more of that amazing cock. There is more, isn't it? You're not done yet?" she whispered. Her one hand quickly spread some more of David's ample precum along the flushed cock while her other tickled its sensitive root behind his heavy balls. The whole length of the humungous rod throbbed stronger and grew even thicker as it stretched. "Oh yes, you're not done by far." She turned her head and raised her voice.

"Your turn, blondie!" she demanded. "I'd like to see you try now! He's your man? Then show me you can take this! Come on, Miss Boasting, put your cooch where your mouth is! Why don't you go ahead now, rip yourself apart?"



"Finally," winked Barbara. She turned on all fours on the bed and raised her ass invitingly, looking over her shoulder. "Been waiting far too long, too. Come, husband, show her how it's done."