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Restocking

By: Otzchiim



The Timswe people - for they were people in all but details of body, and though they occupied four worlds, not just that of Timswe - had known how to travel to other stars for many generations, yet had never done to.

The barrier of light-speed had discouraged them, and the fact that no one could survive such a journey except in hibernation kept them from spending the resources needed. They had sent probes which showed other inhabitable (and some inhabited) worlds and far more which could be made so, as they had made three others circling their own sun. But for colonies so far away they had never seen a need.

Until, that is, the discovery that their sun was going to explode in about six generations.

The population of their four worlds could not possible be sent out, but that remaining after a systematic reduction through birth control could be, six generations hence. In the meantime, large ships with small crews could be; each would have many livestock embryos and stocks of seeds, as well as the machinery needed to adapt the worlds to which they went.

The small crews would use only small amounts of unrecovered supplies, and the problems of inbreeding and genetic drift were avoided by seeing that the crew who arrived were the same as those who left - genetically. Parthenogenesis was simple and long-known, though more traditional reproduction was pretty near universal before the ships.

Each adult woman of the crew past a certain age had a daughter, identical in all but age, coming up. And many had a mother living in retirement, so that the original crew of thirty eventually became something like fifty-five in number.

The Polla, sixteenth of the colony ships, had been three generations out from Tinswe when the mechanical malfunction was discovered.

"That does not sound like so much of a problem. We have frozen semen and frozen ova just as backups for the embryos we have in storage. We probably won't need that semen at all, and if we do lose one species it will be more of a nuisance than a catastrophe," said Master Engineer Matoti.

"I would agree," replied the biologist Erria. "But it was of the one species we didn't bring embryos of. Us.

"They were unsure about doing that, since the experiments had never been done on how well we came through freezing. It may be that a lot of the semen is still good, but we can't find that out until we land."

"Surely we can," said Settema, the machinist. "It's supposed to be pretty simple to do."

Erria gave her a dark look. "That's the only simple part of it. The medical unit is not set up to handle birth, specifically to keep us from having them. I don't want to think about creating an embryo in the lab, since we can't store it now -- and destroying it is a mess ties in to things it took a century to settle.

"We can't really know the semen is good unless we bring the child to term and what if it is male? Once he reached adolescence we would start getting tempted, and contraceptives are not available until we land. It would be one problem after another."

"Well, they are problems I wish I had the chance to live with," said Sofoni the cook. "Being loved by a male and raising children sounds so wonderful in what I have read."

"Raising children is not all that great," said Willeti, who did that. "And I suspect the other is overrated."

"That's academic for now," said Erria, "though some of us may find out about the one, and our daughters about the other. But there is a possible solution to the problem."

Thirty heads turned to her.

"The ship tells me that there is an inhabited world that we will pass near, near enough that we will add only a few years to our trip. They are technological enough to have broadcast communication, and while medical information is much harder to find than an external view -- and even that is recent - they seem compatible to us. We can try to ask them to donate semen."

* * * * * * *

Some years later, a small mountain spat forth a rock and let it fall. The outer covering burnt away, then that below, until the reduced weight and increasing density of air combined to slow the descent. At close to sea level, the polyethelene capsule, originally a foot long, split open and gave birth to a finger-length flying machine.

That machine found a man dozing on a park bench in the summer heat, and bit him. The man swatted blindly - and might have been grateful for not seeing what he swatted at - and missed.

The machine rose straight up as fast as it could, and when its beating wings were almost useless began to beam a homing signal. A second probe quickly scooped it up and returned to the ship.

"This species is much closer to us than we expected," Erria announced when the analysis was finished. "while it appears from the video transmissions that just appearing and asking for donations would cause problems - these people are wary of the idea of contact with an alien species - we should have no trouble with gathering some informally.

"While monogamous mating is theoretically the norm, there is a lot of outside activity depicted among the younger ones. We can make use of that."

"That would mean we can carry the seed in us until we get back to the ship," said Sattema. "Won't we be in danger of, what's it called, pregnancy?"

"No," Erria said. "Fertility will require some modification of the germ plasm. We will be quite safe in that matter. In any case, we will not be carrying the semen."

Many eyebrows went up.

Matoti now spoke. "The ship will be within the practical limit for teleportation devices. Those sent will be implanted with nanodevices which will operate when triggered by the arrival of ejaculate - which we found the composition of on a medical broadcast. If we miss a little, it will dry up harmlessly. These males produce a lot!"

"But we are going to be able to attract them into a casual sex act?" asked Sofoni. "We don't exactly look like them."

"Two answers," said Erria. "There is a big difference between how these people look on their news broadcasts and how they look on the entertainment. We are still not sure what to make of that, but we are going to use the entertainment model, especially the ones represented there as young and engaged in informal mating.

"The second answer - I'm afraid that we will need extensive cosmetic changes. The skin tones do not match ours. No violet-"

There were groans.

"Or lime."

More groans.

"Or robin's egg."

Yet more.

"And while they have people that they call yellow-skinned, it is not a bright yellow at all.:

"These people use a number of different languages," said Willeta, "but they are segregated in such a way that you will only need to learn one each. We will only be using seven small ships, each to a different city, and three of the cities use the same language. It is a good thing that we have had a few years to study these people, since we have had to piece together information on reproductive matters, and I'm not sure we have it all yet; there is a cultural taboo in some places and of course some things are too obvious to them to be mentioned."

So twenty of the crew members were changed by nanites to almost duplicate some actress seen on television - the variation was intentional - with the genital area constructed to match medical drawings. 

Wagira, Matoti, and Lugia were sent to Buenos Aires in the first of the three passenger ships.

Pargey, Farona, and Duki went to Peking.

Sared, Willeta, and Febra went to Moscow.

Imin, Valia, and Marran went to Paris.

Secu, Appar, and Rossi went to San Francisco.

Toewen, Jannua, and Settema went to Chicago.

And Erria and Sofoni landed near Washington.

The older Toewen and Febra (for the names were passed down along with the genetic patterns) were called from retirement to help handle emergencies and maintain contact with the ships expeditions.

Pargey walked up to a man at noon in Peking and asked if he were interested in sexual intercourse, and was immediately arrested for prostitution. On the other hand, she bought her freedom by offering herself to three guards in succession, one of whom was startled to see what a naked woman looked like, while for the other two it had been so long that they did not trust their memories. The one-child policy had affected their lives considerably. (Farona and Duki avoided arrest, but had trouble finding men who trusted them enough to negotiate the intended activity.)

Sared and Febra and Willeta all eventually reported back that the only men in Moscow with a private place to accomplish the mating were tourists and foreign businessmen with hotel rooms, who insisted on paying them. The pounds and dollars later rested in a museum on Polla.

The three sent to San Francisco reported great difficulty in finding anyone who was interested in them.

Valia was quickly and repeatedly successful in Paris, but Imin and Marran were puzzled by the men who did not seem to know the correct opening to use.

The three in Buenos Aires made contact of the right sort early and often but never left the city park they had landed in.

Those in Chicago only encountered one donor each, but repeated donations from them, and had to invent elaborate stories to be allowed to leave before dawn.

Erria and Sofoni landed their vehicle on the lawn of Montgomery Blair High School a little before nine in the evening on a Saturday night in June, turned on the visual projector so that the ship appeared to be a large rock, and walked obto the street together.

Erria wore a lime-green sheath (the color of her natural skin) on a body copied from that of Joan Severance. Sofoni wore a lacy violet dress (the color chosen for the same reason) on a body from Brigette Bardot's about 1959.

"How direct do you think we should be?" asked Erria.

"I'm not sure there is an answer," replied Sofoni. "The broadcasts that take a while to even hint at mating activity indicate that one falls into it after some time has passed. But the ones that show it clearly indicate that everyone is always read. Since we want to finish this tonight, I suggest the latter assumption."

"Yes. Those entertainment broadcasts indicate these bars as frequent rendezvous places for mating. Let's try this one." And they entered.

They saw two men sitting together. A quick glance showed that there were also women present talking to men, so this might not reflect the sort of problem relayed to them from San Francisco. But the crew members were unsure of the protocol with either or both of them spproaching the men together.

Fortunately, one of them got up then.

Sofoni walked up to the remaining one and whispered into his ear.

"You WHAT?" cane the reaction.

There followed a brief conversation with repeated assurances from Sofonithat no money was involved, and the man left for the restroom to prepare to leave with Sofoni.

"Well, Denny" he said to his friend there, "I don't know if I got lucky or not, but I'm sure planning to find out. This woman just came up to me and said she wanted to brain my screws out!"

"Sounds a bit confused but worth looking into. Maybe getting into as well," said Daniel. "Has she got a friend, Marty?"

"She didn't mention one."

They walked back out together. Marty had already paid for his drink so he left the rest of it and walked out with Sofoni.

When they got to the car, Sofoni walked around it with obvious curiosity. Martin was unsure if he should apologize for its age and ordinariness, but decided not to say anything if she didn't.

But when they got in the car, she did speak when he started it. "Oh, that's how it works! I had wondered."

Martin glanced over at her but remained silent.

When they entered the apartment he shared, he cautioned her that the other tenant might be home in a few hours and therefore she should not be surprised to see him. Sofoni nodded.

In the middle of the living room, Martin stopped her and said, "You know, I don't even know your name."

"It's Sofoni."

"Well, Stephanie,"-he had not listened carefully, being too nervous - "I hope you like a slow buildup, because I want to give you one. I;ve never been alone with a woman as beautiful as you before."

"That sounds all right," she said, "as long as we don't take more than a few hours to get to the real screwing. I do want very much to feel your sperm shooting into me."

Martin practically fainted at that. He steadied himself by putting his hands on Sofoni's shoulders and leaning down for a kiss.

"No, that would not be appropriate," she said, pushing him away.

He was shocked that she might just be teasing and that he had brought her here for nothing. But when he took her hand and walked into his bedroom, she did not hesitate at all. She stood by the bed and stretched her arms up to him, leaned her head back, and said, "Now it would be proper."

A second after his lips met hers, her mouth opened for his tongue to enter. When his hand felt for the spot where he expected the zipper on her dress to be, he found the tang and pulled it down. What happened next he had not expected.

It had been observed that some of the entertainments involved display of female undergarments with the ensuing actions only implied, while others had little or no display but simulated (occasionally real) mating actions with the bodies nude. The question of which was considered usual was never settled, and it was suggested that the difference might reflect a social change. Some of those sent to gather semen were equipped one way, some another.

So when Martin's hand touched to back of Sofoni's dress the fastening opened completely and the dress became a violet puddle on the floor. She had nothing under it.

He did not know what to make of this but could not object. He held her body against his, then lifted her and placed her on his bed. She lay back with a smile, arched her hips up and spread her legs open while she waited for him to undress.

He joined her there and went through the moves he had read of and seen in films, but had never had much chance to practice. He was very pleased by the sounds that she made.

"I like the feel of your hands on me, but I should tell you that it is not needed. I am ready for you, and have been since we entered this room. I am very wet," she said.

He continued and in fact increased his motions until he felt she was about to climax, then moved between her legs and positioned himself to take her.

The researchers on the Polla had studied the human body and decided to duplicate every part that might possibly be seen from the outside, even in the most unlikely situations, as it might be from birth on. Therefore when Martin touched Sofoni's labia and slid in, he met and broke the hymen.

The shock he felt at that would have made him withdraw if Sofoni's hands had not held his rear and drawn him in at that instant. Then he felt her orgasm under him and build towards another. Martin tried his best to make this one bigger for her and to meet her when she did.

The nanites recognized that the ejaculations of semen was about to take place and therefore sent a signal to the Polla. As soon as some was delivered, it was transferred instantly, under pressure.

Which is to say, a tiny but prolonged vacuum was created to gather all the seed that could be gathered, and Martin felt it being sucked out of his body, for the most explosive orgasm of his life.

Back in the bar, Erria had approached Daniel, with whom Martin shared the apartment. The sequence of events was the same except that Daniel and Erria took a cab to the apartment, since Daniel had come to the bar in Martin's car. The most important and significant simi9larity, though, was that Erria received enough foreplay to experience multiple orgasms, unlike any of the Tinswe (except of course Sofoni) sent out that night.

At dawn, Sofoni went to find the bathroom. Erria was awakened by the sound of footsteps on the floor and did likewise. They met outside the bathroom, and by the time they went in opposite directions again, a plan had been set in motion.

When Daniel awoke, it was to the question: "What we did last night, would you like to do that all the time? As often as you want, anyway?"

He laughed. "Yes, I would. Are you thinking of moving in with me? This place is probably large enough for three people to live in, but I am not sure how my friend Martin would feel."

"My, my friend Sofoni is with him right now, asking him the same question. But I don't want to live here. We want you, both of you if we can, to come live with us."

"Are you serious? I hope you don't live too far away from here, because commuting to work is a nuisance already."

"We would have to go a long way. But you won't go to work. Your work would be giving me and the other women orgasms," Erria said.

"Now you are going too far. Other women?"

"I am not offending you, I hope. Do you have a moral objection of sex with other women? We had thought you would be willing."

"To be honest, I would be willing, but I cannot believe you are saying this."

"I am serious. Perhaps I could show you something to convince you. Come with me." And she got up and dressed herself, almost as quickly as the clothes had come off. Dennis took a little longer.

They left the bedroom to find Martin and Sofoni waiting for them. The two men went to a fast-food place to buy breakfast for all four. The women conversed in an unfamiliar language before eating.

Martin drove to the high school by Sofoni's directions, where Erria pressed an apparent decoration on her dress and the large rock became a larger mass of metal.

"There are only three seats, but we easily have room to carry four people,"Sofoni said.

When he recovered from the shock of what he had seen, Martin replied, "You could sit on my lap, assuming the g-force is not too much."

"Yes, that would work. We won't use g-force." She settled onto his lap, but one Martin was reminded by the dampness that she was not wearing underwear, she felt something that provoked comment.

"Do you want to screw me again? I feel that you are ready, but it would be better to wait until we are back on the Polla. We can set up a weightless area there, and I am sure that would feel better."

His mouth came open. "Yes, I imagine it would be better," And he relaxed.

The small ship was the last of the seven to return to the Polla. Erria had called ahead to say what she and Sofoni had done, so there was a delegation of the curious when they emerged. The men were surrounded by women with purple, blue, green and bright yellow faces and white undyed gowns.

There were cries from a couple of places, which Secu, who had been sent to San Francisco, translated"

"They would like the men to take their clothes off. They want to see what 

The men glanced at each other and complied. The relayed question came tick and fast. "Is That what goes in?" "How big does it get?" "How long does it stay in?" (Those were actually answered before the questions were translated.)

Dennis gathered his thoughts enough to ask a question of his own. "You mean these women have never seen a man before?"

"A little over half of them have never interacted with one, if that's what you mean. Twenty of the fifty-five went down to gather seed."

"Never interacted... You mean Martin and I have thirty-five virgins left to go?"

"Well, no. Probably none much beyond puberty are virgins. We are active with each other, of course. And we hope you are willing to have intercourse with a woman more than once," said Sofoni.

"Uh, yes, we are," said Martin. "How have you been, uh, breeding?"

"Parthenogenesis. And you will no ber able to make us pregnant. Our genes are not compatible enough for that."

"Are you similar enough, uh, inside for things to work with us otherwise? I see that you changed your skin color for us."


Restocking The Glade



Stupid orange priests! Every time one of the clerics of the lord of flames came through, Bradrick had to go out and collect new 'entertainment'. Those few playmates that managed to survive were always so horribly maimed that it was a kindness to release them from their pain. Even trolls and orcs knew enough not to damage their toys when it was someone else's property!

Of course, trolls and orcs couldn't afford to replace one of Bradrick's nymphs and they were smart enough not to cross such a powerful wizard. The orange priests most certainly could afford it. Given the gold they forked over, in advance, they expected to use up their vessel.

Bradrick suspected it was quite literally a religious experience for the men. It was an opportunity for them to desecrate one of the very few truly pure and innocent creatures in this misbegotten world. Sure, nymphs fucked even more prodigiously than animals, but it was for the simple joy they both gave and received rather than any less wholesome reasons.

They paid handsomely for the privilege. Of course they would! It was the same reason that Bradrick's little pleasure glade was such a popular spot, despite the exorbitant rates he charged compared to the brothels in virtually any town or city. Not only did nymphs like to fuck, they did so with unparalleled skill.

The problem was, nymphs were hard to come by and even harder to catch. That was why every adventuring idiot didn't have a tale of his, or even her, time with the fey beauties. It could take years to find one and even then you had to be able to catch them without harming them.

Fortunately, Bradrick didn't have to worry about that little problem. It was the true secret to his success. As he gained power as a wizard, he had wondered and studied the mystical curse that created vampires and other undead. The fact that his chief rival had been a necromancer bent on becoming a master liche had ensured he learned every little thing he could about the subject. When the time came, the liche had fallen and he'd survived.

Still, it left Bradrick with the interesting theory. If magic could transform a wizard from a mortal form into an immortal one, what was to prevent a similar kind of transformation into a different immortal form. Fey, as semi-divine beings, certainly fell into that classification.

His experiments quickly disabused him of the notion that he might live forever, at least through those means. As with vampires and other undead, the extension of life provided by the process came with its own drawbacks. Certain personality archetypes seemed to be engrained in the very nature of most immortal beings.

Bradrick was quite happy with his own personality and was unwilling to sacrifice so much of himself simply for eternal life. Particularly when there were always more simple means available. So he'd have to drink a costly potion ever few decades? He was a wizard! His magic allowed him the power to collect and brew those potions even if it didn't also give him access to the wealth that could simply buy it.

The experiments, however, had provided him with quite literally a golden opportunity. With the right curse, he could transform an average woman into a nymph. The same spell, of course, would turn a male into a satyr but he, personally, had no use for that. Better still, the curse could be delivered by a dart shot from a blowgun. As a result, the target usually never realized they'd been attacked. The delivery both felt and looked like the sting of an insect. By the time the symptoms began to manifest, the minor prick had long been forgotten.

Bradrick could quite literally make new entertainment rather than spend the time and money hunting a new nymph down. Granted, boggle saliva wasn't cheap but, fortunately, the spell only called for single drop. As for the blood of a nymph, well, there was usually enough left over from the victims of the orange monks. In the rare cases there wasn't, he could get a pint or so from the rest of his harem.

Now, Bradrick sat in the comfort of the best room of a crossroads inn while he awaited the curse to run its course. Strictly speaking, there was no particular need to be particular in the women upon whom he inflicted the curse. Any number of near-human races could be affected. Just shoot the dart and a week later they began to feel the first stirrings. From there it only depended on the willpower of the subject how long she could last.

There were, however, some criteria that Bradrick used when he selected his prey. The first, and most important, was that she had to be from somewhere away from his home and glade. The transformation did change the physical appearance of those afflicted, but not enough that they could not still be recognized. If women began to disappear near his glade, he could find himself in an uncomfortable position if someone thought to look for them in his harem.

From a less pragmatic perspective, Bradrick preferred to hunt among the elves. Although every nymph was beautiful, the natural lithe grace and perfect features of the elves created superb quality nymphs. Besides, the race tended towards arrogance and no small amount of xenophobia. It fit his sense of irony that elfin women, who would never deign to touch a human, much less a troll or orc, would eventually be pawing at anything with a dick in desperation.

There was one last criterion that he used when he selected his target. She had to be isolated. While it did suit his humor that a frigid bitch, even for elves, transform into a sex addict, there was a more logical reason for it as well. Like with lycanthropes or vampires, the curse didn't fully take effect until a trigger event. Unlike the violence of the other two, however, his curse activated the first time she had sex.

The first reason for his selection was the very personal satisfaction of being the one to complete their transformations. If they had the natural tendency to avoid those around them, while their sexual drive began to slowly amp up, they would eventually flee rather than risk throwing themselves on the first male to come along. He'd lost a couple of his targets when their willpower failed. Those had ended up in the 'protective custody' of very lucky men.

Bradrick's current prey fit the bill perfectly. He didn't even know her name. The elfin woman was a scholar warrior, probably dedicated to the goddess of tactics. To the best of his knowledge, she hadn't taken the vow of celibacy common to members of her goddess' priesthood but she might as well have. The frigid bitch barely spoke to the men of her village, much less consorted with them.

He watched, through the scrying crystal, as she tried, desperately, to ignore the growing demands the curse placed upon her. She was so stubborn that she hadn't even sought out the aid of a priestess! Now, her body flushed with fever and sweat glistened on her skin. The effect was entrancing, particularly in light of the level of clothing she wore.

As her fever increased, she'd forgone her customary armor in favor of the boiled leather under-armor. The fascinating attire covered her feminine aspects, and the torso and stomach between, but nothing else. Even her back was mostly bare. Her only concession to modesty was a diaphanous robe that did little more than shade her natural skin tone.

The sheen of perspiration glittered beneath the immaterial fabric. It drew the eye quite nicely to the mounds of her cleavage and the soft valleys at the curve of her legs. The sight proved even more exciting with the knowledge that all that flesh would soon enough be his to enjoy.

Bradrick had watched her for nearly a week now. It spoke wonders for her resilience, or maybe just sheer stubbornness, that she had lasted as long as she had. At this point, she might become one of the rare few who ended up burning themselves up rather than succumb to the inevitable.

Her head jerked upright, eyes wide with terror. Bradrick hadn't bothered to include an audible component to his spying. There wasn't much need and the complication would have drained even more magic. In this case, he suspected that someone had just knocked on the door to her cabin.

"Go away!" Her mouth formed. He could almost hear the desperation and panic in her tone. He didn't even know the pitch of her voice. At that moment, however, even the stoutest male would probably be up into the soprano range as a combination of lust and fear worked on him.

Her body began to tremble. White-knuckled fingers clutched the edge of the chair on which she sat. That action, however, could have been as much to ensure something more solid than the boiled leather covered her. Her reaction proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that whoever had called on her was a male. Once more, she silently screamed for him to leave her alone.

Fresh beads of sweat had broken out on her delicate forehead. Bradrick's lopsided grin widened and he allowed his eyes to trail downward. Her breasts heaved, trapped within the girdle-like garment, and glistened with considerably more than a sheen. His gaze shifted farther down and he felt certain that the copious moisture, not that well hidden by her clenched hands, had little to do with sweat.

Once more, Bradrick began to worry that he had found someone just a bit too stubborn. If she didn't give in soon, she'd die. It had been easy enough for her to ignore the initial stages of the curse and once the later progression had occurred she'd locked herself safely in her cabin.

The chair fell over backwards as she bolted to stand too quickly. Terrified eyes looked beyond the scope of the scrying. Unconsciously, Bradrick was certain, one of her arms covered her breasts while she gripped her other arm. Meanwhile, her free hand cupped protectively between her legs.

One way or the other, the wait had come to an end. Despite her formidable will, she was about to complete her transformation. No matter how resolved, every single subject that had come into contact with a male had succumb. The only ones who had managed to allow themselves to be destroyed had done so having secured their isolation.

Before the door could be broken down, the warrior-woman turned and fled. The scene in his crystal followed as she flung open a window and leapt. A moment later she was on the ground and sprinting through the forest.

Bradrick smiled widely and shut down the scrying crystal. He gathered his belongings with a practiced ease and stored them all in a bag that quickly shrunk to fit on his belt. He took one last look at his reflection in the obscenely priced full-length mirror and headed out the door to the room.

The inn-keeper appeared magically, in the manner of all good hospitallers. Bradrick handed the woman several gold and informed her he would no longer require the room. She scrambled to find change for him but he assured her the rest was no more than remuneration for quality service. It always did well to leave such people thinking kindly of him, just in case he had to return that way some day. Or, possibly, in case anyone came looking for the lost woman. After all, such a gentleman as he couldn't possibly have had anything to do with it!

Bradrick had neither a mount nor a carriage. That might have seemed odd to the small staff of the inn, when he'd arrived a little over a week ago, but they had surely seen less comprehensible things in their time. As rich as he was, they probably suspected that he had other means of transportation and protection about him. They were correct, as well.

The entire observation could probably have been handled from the sanctity of his palatial manor. As with the sound for his scrying, however, Bradrick had decided to ration the use of his magic. It was only a short hop from there to the woods where his prey currently scurried. Once he was done, it would be quite a bit longer teleportation back to the glade. Even with a surge of energy from his intended activities, he would be hard-pressed to make two such jumps so closely together.

The scenery wavered and shifted with a wave of his hands. Where there had been the inn and two well traveled roads now stood nothing but tall trees. The canopy spread thick above him and prevented the nuisance of undergrowth. He scanned the area and quickly found the subject of his interest.

What had begun as an enthusiastic flight had already begun to falter. The fever which burned through her body made short work of any sustenance in which she'd partaken over the last week. Her arms clutched protectively around her waist and her steps became haggard. Even her warrior's awareness had begun to fail her. She never noticed him, some dozen feet away, as she continued to try to run.

He saw the stutter in her steps and watched as she finally collapsed to the ground. Her shoulders shook with tears even as she struggled to pull herself forward, too confused and weak to even stand again. He could hear her soft whimpers as he slowly approached.

Her warrior instinct finally kicked in when Bradrick intentionally stepped on a dry branch only a foot or so from her. She spun to her back, adrenalin providing the fuel her body didn't have. Unfortunately, the haunted, frightened, look in her eyes made the tension in her body seem less like a warrior prepared to strike and more like a cornered animal.

"What...what's happening to me?" At last she had asked the question that should have come out days ago. If it had, she might have been able to escape him, if not her ultimate fate. He wasn't certain how she'd come to think he might have an answer for her but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he did have those answers.

"Your body is in the middle of ascendance. Very near the end, truthfully." He began. "You resist the necessities it demands, however. The conflict has begun to tear your physical form apart. If you do not relinquish yourself to the inevitable, you will die."

He kept his tone neutral. It was the voice of an instructor. There was gentleness and understanding within it but also an unyielding statement of fact. He'd learned to add the hints of compassion simply to make the process easier, particularly in cases this close to the terminal condition.

"I...I don't...If I'm fighting it, I don't know how to stop."

"You do." He nodded sagely and brought a sad smile to his expression. He answered simply. He knew it was the truth, even. Her body demonstrated the subconscious knowledge by the way that her hips had begun to roll forward and back as soon as she'd realized his presence; the presence of a male. Given the way that the boiled leather hugged tight between her legs, the unrealized action simply had to be causing her clit to rub almost constantly. by the time she got that armor off she would probably be very close to orgasm.

Bradrick even knew that she was aware of the truth on a conscious level. She tried to push it back from her thoughts but the demands of her body kept it forefront. She'd noted the rounded curve of his ears the moment she rolled over. She knew what it was she fought from her body, in part, because he was of a lesser race.

"I don't want to die." Her quavering alto voice came out in a soft whisper. "It's one thing to fall in glorious battle. This...I feel like a coward letting my body tear itself apart."

"Then don't." Bradrick sat cross-legged inches from her feet. With less difference in their heights, she gained enough confidence to leverage herself to kneel opposite him. He noticed she hadn't gained enough confidence to assume the meditative pose that should have come so naturally to one of her studies. In fact, when she sat back on her heels, with her head slightly bowed, she seemed the supplicant rather than the warrior-scholar.

"What will become of me?"

He smiled. It was difficult to keep that smile from transforming into a grin of anticipated delight. She hadn't phrased it as a speculative question, hadn't asked what "might" happen but what "will" happen. Together with her posture, she'd already conceded herself to him. It was just a matter of walking her through the last few steps.

"You will transform into an immortal. A fey, true, but an immortal representation of a factor of the cycle of life."

Her eyes lifted, slightly, to peer through her thin lashes. The explanation helped, as he knew it would. A human would have been more intrigued by the prospect of immortality but an elf, who might live for hundreds of years anyway, could not help but connect with the suggestion of the cycles of nature.

The truth was, she would only represent a single aspect of the cycle. Despite their drive towards procreation, nymphs could only reproduce with satyrs, dryads, naiads, and other nature spirits. To the rest of the world, they were the symbol of the act of conception without the pesky difficulties of consequences.

Maybe she understood his little misdirection and intentionally chose to avoid it. Quite possibly, her body had already begun to drive her into literal madness with its insistence to the point where the scholar in her no longer even recognized the verbal maneuver. Whatever the reason, she didn't ask what her connection to the cycle would be.

"I...I can't..."

It was only partly a lie. In complete honesty, she would have said she couldn't bring herself to. As it was, he knew that, just as he knew she could no longer resist him with even the slightest push. The only reason she hadn't jumped him the moment she saw him, as she would have whatever male had been in the process of breaking down her door, was because of her prejudice against humans.

Bradrick reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders. Her body hummed with tension. She leaned forward, probably unaware that the action displayed her cleavage even more prominently. She kept her head tipped down. The fall of bangs obscured her face but he could see the tears that continued to drip from her eyes.

His hands caressed her shoulders and trailed down her arms. The semi-transparent robe slid before him touch and fell away from her. She barely noticed. Her hands remained clenched in her lap. He knew what would happen if they weren't and guided his own hands down to hers. He held her fingers lightly for a few seconds and then gently separated them.

Over the past week, he had been able to gauge the progression of the curse by her clothes alone. Initially, she wore articles that were more enticing than her traditional garb. As her drive began to become more noticeable, the trend quickly changed to adorn clothing as difficult as possible to circumnavigate. That had been when the full extend of armor had been donned full-time. As the fever began to mount, layers began to filter off.

The fact was, her body disliked the sensation of clothing. The best it provided her was a convenient means, as it currently did, to stimulate herself into full arousal. In general, and at worst, it acted as a barrier to necessity. That was, after all, the point.

Now, with her hands freed and her mind surrendered, her fingers began to work desperately to peel off the boiled-leather shell that restricted her. Her mind had begun to slip and now she found such ordinarily mundane actions complex. He left her to struggle with it while he meticulously removed his own britches and folded them on the ground nearby.

Bradrick barely had time to flinch when he turned back to the cursed woman. Her naked form collided with him in a burst of energy he never expected. What remained of her warrior strength bowled him onto his back. Her knees locked on either side of him while her hands pushed his shoulder to the ground. Her hips flailed backwards as she desperately tried to impale herself on his cock.

A chuckle rumbled out of him as her frustration mounted. She was so close but her instincts had now taken complete control. She was more animal than sentient. It never dawned on her that she could easily have kept him pinned with only one hand, freeing up the other to guide him inside her. He might have lay there and enjoyed her helpless flailing if each failed attempt didn't hurt slightly. With one hand on her hips to slow her desperation, he reached down and positioned himself. Even before he was fully aimed, she thrust herself backwards and sheathed him fully with her body.




Restocking The Glade Ch. 02



Life had slowly become a challenge for Calliope. When she first began to feel unwell, she'd consulted a local priest. He'd used his limited magic to check her for disease but had been unable to discover anything untoward. He'd suggested she seek out an herb-wife. The witch had been able to identify the cause as a curse but, reluctantly, admitted that she lacked the power to remove it. Given that the priest hadn't even been able to spot the damn magic, she didn't expect he'd be of much use.

What Calliope needed was a wizard. Fortunately, she was on fairly friendly terms with one. The fact that he was probably among the most powerful magicians on the continent didn't hurt her chances either. It would cost a pretty penny, she had no doubt, but maybe he would give her a break. After all, she'd spent a considerable amount of money visiting his "glade" only a little under two weeks ago.

Calliope's mind drifted idly back to that afternoon. The longer the curse had lingered, the more powerful it had become, the more that tended to happen. Particularly if the thought involved sex!

She had known from a very young age that she was attracted to women rather than men. There was a beauty to the female form than the bulkier males simply couldn't match. And while there were cultures that didn't immediately disparage someone who preferred the company of the same gender, even those thought it better to indulge in such unusual desires in secret rather than in public, like more typical arrangements were allowed.

Like all adventurers, Calliope had often fantasized about a liaison with a nymph. She'd heard the rumors that someone maintained a pleasure garden full of them, for a not-so-modest fee. She'd been a little surprised to discover the stories were true. She'd been completely shocked to find out that a friendly acquaintance was the one who'd maintained it.

Bradrick had been more than delighted to provide her with a private corner of his glade for her discreet pleasure. He'd even offered her a discount, due to their friendship. As with most men, there'd been a veritable twinkle in his eyes at the prospect of a woman enjoying the virtues of his stock.

She'd been more than a little nervous about the conditions within the glade. When she first realized the rumors were true, she'd feared that the majestic beings were being kept in slavery to be used as objects by some evil fiend. That it was Bradrick forced her to reconsider her opinion of him. Thankfully, he'd explained that the walls around the glade were for their protection. Furthermore, he kept the area as natural as possible in an effort to make them feel more at home. As for the sex, they were nymphs, after all.

The blond haired nymph had awaited Calliope in a small area of the glade, walled off by hedges and secured with a gate. She'd seemed almost frantic when Calliope arrived. Her hands had begun to roam even before Calliope had been able to get her clothes off.

Fingers pinched at the mortal woman's nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. Her knees had wobbled at the ticklish nips. Warmth began to pool deep within her even as electricity began to arc across her breasts.

Calliope took control, despite the skilled hands that began to massage her. She wanted more. For the money she'd spent, she wanted to savor every moment of the encounter with every sense. She held the beauty by the shoulders at arm's length. Even that didn't stop the immortal's ministrations, though it did confine them to her breasts.

The nymph was beautiful in a way even the elves couldn't boast. Her heart-shaped face beamed with a delight that couldn't possibly know distress. Large breasts heaved dramatically with each breath. Tiny nipples stood rock hard and practically begged to be sucked and played with.

Past her short, thin, waist, there was something unusual about her hips. It took Calliope a moment to recognize the difference. While wide enough to suggest good breeding material, and incite the instinctive reactions that went with it, they tapered down far more severely than other species. After a moment of thought, she suspected that the difference probably allowed the immortal sex-addict to handle much larger and longer men.

The sparks that began in Calliope's nipples had begun to fill her chest with warmth. Even as she appreciated the other woman's beauty, the sensation seemed to overflow from her breasts and spill directly between her own hips. Her body didn't want to contain such a fire. Everywhere her clothes rested against her flesh protested of confinement.

There's time enough for savoring later! Calliope decided. This wasn't like a typical brothel where the whore would turn her out the moment she got off. All that the nymph wanted was to pleasure and be pleasured. Eventually, the wire armband would begin to glow to inform her that her time was up, but that wouldn't be for hours.

Calliope drew the beauty closer and pushed down in the same motion. With a display of amazing grace, the nymph managed to take the direction easily and seemed to flow from standing at the limit of her arms to kneeling right in front of her. Another shift and the nymph's face pressed tight between her legs, her hands satisfyingly tangled in those blond locks.

The nymph needed no prompting beyond that. Her jaw began to work and press against Calliope's tender flower even as her hands gathered up the short skirt Calliope had chosen for her fun. The delicious massage eased for only a moment, when the nymph pulled her head back just enough to remove the obstruction.

Lips closed around Calliope's hot bud. They plucked at her and teased the folds aside. She moaned. Cool air brushed against her overly-sensitive mound before she was surrounded by the moist inferno of the nymph's mouth. Her body began to shake with need and anticipation. Her fingers curled in the nymph's hair and pulled her more forcefully against the miraculous jaw.

Teeth grazed against her bud as they peeled back the petals and held her completely exposed. She wanted to explode with just that contact. When the nymph's tongue darted forward and began to flick across, over, and around her, her entire body seized with euphoria.

It had been too long, Calliope realized. When she'd first heard the rumors, she'd stopped going to brothels. After all, most of those women weren't all that interested in passion. They just wanted to finish the assignation as quickly as possible. It didn't matter that she was a novelty, as a woman instead of a man. Besides, she knew it was going to be expensive and wanted as much money saved up as possible.

It was a good thing Bradrick had set up times for the sessions. As amazingly skilled as the nymphs were, any patron would have cum in minutes. Given the high cost of entry, and despite the euphoria that had begun to pulse through her body, it would almost have seemed a letdown to be in and out in less time than most people could eat a meal.

The pulses came faster and faster. Calliope wished she'd thought to lie down before she pressed the nymph against her groin. Now, with her body frozen in delight and her hands locked in place and forcing the very thing that kept her immobile, she was afraid she would collapse. The pressure within her core had grown to unbearable levels. The fact that a portion of her mind distracted her from completion, with the need to keep her balanced, drove her even higher than she'd ever felt herself taken before. 

All at once, the world seemed to explode around her. The nymph's mouth latched mercilessly around Calliope. Her jaw pressed into nerves below and above the captive flesh to ignite the volatile pressure that had built well past the point of containment. She sucked in slightly and tugged on the enflamed pearl. A flick of her tongue struck the spot she had meticulously marked as the most sensitive.

Calliope collapsed to the ground. Her back arched. Her body shook constantly with the need to release the tension and energy the miraculous fey had built within her. Screams of joy erupted from her mouth to overpower those of even the most joyous nymphs throughout the glade. Her mind went white; unable to process anything beyond the sheer sensation caused by the woman whose head she still trapped against her flesh.

"My dear. I had wondered how long it might be until you returned to me."

The baritone voice cut through Calliope's lost musing. Her eyes struggled to focus on the here-and-now rather than that afternoon only a week or two before. It was hard. Her entire body seemed devoted to the pursuit of pleasure and the memory of those hours was without parallel. She had shared pleasure with the nymph, but more often the balance had favored the human woman.

Calliope shook her head with the vain hopes it would clear her mind. It didn't work. Liquid fire seemed to course through her veins. Her skin took exception to every subtle shift, whether it was a leaf, the wind, or even her clothes, and sent messages directly to her pounding groin. Even her nerves rebelled and demanded release.

Worse still, the inferno that had once been her core responded viscerally to the deep voice in a way that it never had before. Her muscles clenched and demanded to be invaded. They wanted to clutch and milk the bulge she couldn't take her eyes off of. She could almost feel the hot length as it forced her open and unloaded itself inside of her.

"Cursed..." Calliope managed to blurt out. She blushed at the fact that she couldn't tear her gaze away from the large form suggested beneath his robes. Thankfully, she was fairly certain she was feverish so the reddening should go unnoticed. "Please! Help me, Bradrick."

"Come in. Come in, my dear Calliope." A hand on her shoulder helped to guide her through the door of his manor. She didn't notice the rooms he directed her through. She couldn't focus beyond the fact that each word he spoke caused her body to clench with fresh demands. What he probably thought were soothing placations were a fresh torment to her curse-ridden body.

Finally, Calliope sank as she was guided to sit somewhere soft and inviting. Bradrick's hand remained on her shoulder while he stood before her. She thought he asked her what was wrong but all she noticed was the bulge right before her eyes. Inches away! If she closed the distance, took it in her mouth, maybe he would have mercy on her and cool her fevered body with his seed.

The hand shifted from her shoulder. A single finger slipped under her chin and, with more than a little effort, guided her face upwards. Her eyes continued to dart back down to the object of her need but the change made it a little easier to focus on something else.

Bradrick, his expression vaguely amused, smiled down and repeated his question. "What can I do for you today, Calliope?"

She resisted the first thing that sprung to mind. She was not attracted to him, despite what her body demanded. He wasn't bad looking, but it was clear that it had been quite a few years since the man had adventured himself. Even if she'd never been attracted to men, at least there were some whose bodies she could respect, in an analytic kind of way.

"I've been cursed." She managed to get out. That was the real reason she was there. She didn't want to give in to the curse. She wanted it gone!

"I know." Bradrick said simply. The admission surprised Calliope so greatly that he managed to draw her full attention, despite the way his manhood jumped beneath his robe.

"A priest, herb-witch...neither could break it. It's too strong. I need your help."

His hand shifted from her chin to cup the side of her face. His skin was blessedly cool! Calliope didn't know if that factor of the curse was because he was male or simply a comparison between his healthy touch and her fevered flesh. In the end, it didn't matter. She couldn't help but lean against the minor relief.

Bradrick stepped back and tore the sole respite from her. She leaned forward at his retreat to the very edge of her soft seat. When she couldn't advance any farther the connection broke. The backlash of heat ripped through her body and redoubled the aches and tension.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I have always liked you. You're brave and daring. Unfortunately, I never foresaw your proclivities. If I had, I might have found a manner in which I could warn you away from my little enterprise."

Bradrick's comments didn't make any sense to her. The fog that shrouded her mind was likely to blame. Unfortunately, her confusion made it even more difficult to pay attention to him. The longer he spoke nonsensically, the harder it was to ignore his manhood.

Thankfully, Bradrick seemed to understand her problem and found a different way to distract her from the member that her body insisted it needed while her mind reviled against. His arms had slipped from the robe and the open front allowed it to fall back and expose his chest. While he might have developed a bit of a gut, he still showed signs of the muscles he must once have had.

"You see, Calliope, while I did collect my nymphs, they weren't exactly from the wild." There was such a thing as captive-bred nymphs? Obviously aware of the direction of her thoughts, he continued on with both his explanation and removal of clothing. Her heart began to race when his hands reached for the knot of his belt.

"You see, the curse I created was designed to be delivered by means of a small dart. It works perfectly. Enough time elapses between delivery and the onset of first symptoms that the two have never been linked. It helps, of course, that symptoms begin small and don't grow large enough to be noticed for a few days. By that point, the poor intendeds think it merely a matter of the time since they have last relieved themselves."

Calliope nodded at the calm words. Whatever it was he was talking about, he clearly understood it perfectly. Since it involved a curse of some sort, it obviously meant he was the right person to approach to deal with her problem.

None of that mattered much, however. His hands moved with a maddeningly slow precision as he worked the knot free on the belt. Finally, it came untangled. For a moment, her breath froze within her while he simply held it in place. He let go and the belt fell to the floor. The front of his robe parted slightly to reveal a hint of purplish flesh and a gasp escaped at last. The remainder of his robe fell to the floor to reveal the object of her desire.

"What I never considered was that I patterned the curse after vampirism and lycanthropy. Both are communicable states. None of the partners of my original test subjects were similarly infected. I had feared they might transform into satyrs, or something similar, but they remained pristinely untouched."

Her tongue crept out to wet her lips. The slight salty tang that greeted her might have been the sheen of perspiration caused by her fever but she could almost imagine it to be the taste of his solid flesh. Her nipples ached as a cool breeze played across them. She managed to glance down in surprise, but only for a moment. Of course she had taken off her shirt. She was too damned hot! Besides, if he was naked and ready for her, and the lust that twitched as it pointed directly at her revealed he was more than ready, then she should be as well.

"It never dawned on me to test women as well. I could have hired a whore and explained it as a fetish, a desire to watch two women together. I would have then realized that, like the bite of a vampire or werewolf, the curse could be passed on.

"You, my dear Calliope, are becoming a Nymph."

The statement was plain enough to draw her gaze up to meet his. The fire in his eyes should have angered her, or maybe frightened her. A small part of her mind reviled from the thought of what he wanted to do to her. Unfortunately, the minor thought was pushed aside by the unquenchable demands of her body.

His hand reached out as he closed on her. Unaware, her chest thrust forward to meet the contact. She groaned in satisfaction. First one hand, then the next, cupped her flaming breasts with a soothing touch. Even the soft pressure that began to squeeze and rub her seemed to send icy current across her stressed nerves.

The whispered voice within her head suggested that she should fight, that he'd just admitted to being the cause of all her troubles. Wherever that voice came from, it had grown softer already and Callio...Cal...and she ignored it. Those cool, soft, hands promised all she needed. When they began to guide her backwards, never ceasing the wonderful massage, she yielded to lie back on the bed.

She wanted more than just the hands. She wanted that juicy, thick, length inside of her. Between her legs was best, either way, she wasn't picky, but within her mouth would do in a pinch. Her body screamed that it needed release but she knew that would come eventually if she drank him down.

The bed he'd set her down on was sinfully comfortable. A cloud enveloped her back. Her legs dangled off the edge at the knees but that didn't bother her. In order to continue the delightful fondling, he'd pressed his body between her knees. The hard shaft taunted her, just out of reach.

She whimpered when one of the hands left her breast. It wasn't until he reached for the waistband of her pants that she felt better about the loss. She couldn't figure out why she had those on anyway, especially when they were so confining. It would be difficult for anyone to sate their lusts, or her own for that matter, with them in the way!

Bradrick was a bit rough when he managed to pull off her pants. She didn't mind. He didn't seem to be the type who was excited by that kind of thing but even if he was it would be one more thing she could do to please him. Besides, the force he used had pulled her butt to the very edge of the bed.

His hands had fallen away from her when he leaned back to remove her offensive clothing. Although impatient for him, her body didn't mind too much. He'd removed the final impediment and remained faithfully between her legs. It could only be a matter of moments, after all. When he rose on his knees, his body pushed her legs apart and she was thoroughly aware of how her core twitched and wept for him to do more. Her hands reached feebly for him but he pushed them aside.

"I don't think I'll need to play any more games with you." Bradrick admitted with a feral grin. "I can see you're already desperate enough for me. Besides, I can't have you being too insatiable where you're going."

She didn't care what he was saying. All that mattered was the way his hips shifted forward slowly, inexorably, towards her. The tip of that hard shaft should have been burning up but it felt cool against her fevered flesh. There was no question why her body so greedily grasped at it and almost pulled it farther inside. The only question was why had she always resisted such treats before!

The length was a cool balm inside of her. With her nerves so taut, the slow glide of his body into hers became a drawn out musical note. She felt like a violin beneath his masterful bow. The methodical advance and retreat of his passion struck a chord within her.

Her back arched with sudden excitement. She was beyond ready for him. She needed him to push her over that cliff and let her float forever on the orchestration of his movements. His hands once more found her breasts and began a massage in time with the rhythmic waltz of his hips. The added sensation merged the demand that had built up in the three separate points of her body into one unbearable need. He conducted her moans and screams of pleasure with each press of his palm and twitch of his thumb.

She felt the crescendo burst within her core. He allowed the cadenza her voice created to wander and linger, uninterrupted by his very soft grunts. Her body joyed so fiercely at the final fulfillment of her need that it seemed to glow, even as the first throws of heaven wracked her.




Restocking The Glade Ch. 02



It wasn't just her imagination. The magic she had taken as a curse flowed outward from between her legs to saturate her every pore. The bliss it carried transcended anything she'd ever felt before. As it soaked into her very being, she lost herself in an indescribable passion.

She could feel the changes that began in her body. She felt her hips widen and shift. It caused her canal to tighten even further around him, in amazing harmony, and spurred him to push deeper than he'd been able to. She felt her waist shorten and slim, focusing the pleasure that linked between her lust and her breasts and amplifying it. She felt the swell of her breasts and the way his hands shifted to compensate.

She even felt the adjustments in her face. Her jaw line softened and narrowed. A giggle slipped past the constant release of joy as she realized that the angle of her throat shifted slightly. That solid length of manhood would now glide effortlessly into her mouth without any threat of gagging. Even her ears tingled as they sharpened to points; the better to hear those soft grunts and interpret exactly what he desired.

The sudden swelling she felt inside her was the only warning she had. A moment later she realized that everything that had come before meant nothing. The way he pulsed within her, the intensity of his a-rhythmic thrusts, the odd-yet-wonderful sensation that he continued to pump more and more of his essence into her until she felt over-full, all overwhelmed her mind.

If before she had floated in ecstasy, now there was no central being at the core of the euphoria. Sense of self vanished beneath sensation. The pleasure that Bradrick felt only amplified that which had been hers.

Too slowly, or maybe too quickly, she began to come back to herself. She felt a desperate sense of loss and loneliness without the connection to him, without the completeness of the heaven she had experienced. There was nothing else but the pursuit of pleasure, whether his, hers, or anyone she might meet.

She couldn't understand why he was fully clothed. Hadn't he just been between her legs, where he belonged? She started to roll over and felt a tickle run down her inner thigh. Curious, she reached down. Her body shuddered with but an echo of delight when her fingers passed over her own lust. There would be time enough for that later. First, to see what ran between her legs.

The slick, viscous, fluid felt good against her skin. It was cool, but then again her flesh no longer boiled as it had. Better still, Bradrick stared at her with open hunger as she rubbed the sticky moisture against her tender nub. Beneath his pants, his manhood stirred in intense interest.

More of the liquid continued to seep out of her. She dipped her finger inside, stunned for a moment by the pleasure it brought her, then brought a gob up to her face for inspection. Inches away, the moment she smelled its tangy salty flavor, she understood that it was his lust, his essence, his seed. Her tongue crept out for a taste. When his body lurched in response, she stuck the whole finger in her mouth suggestively. When she slid it back out there was no trace of the white treasure left. His knees nearly buckled and he turned around to avoid her gaze.

"It's quite unfortunate." She was delighted to discover Bradrick's voice was shaky. Still, she couldn't understand why he hesitated. For that matter, she couldn't understand why he wore clothes. They were so confining and they prevented everyone from simply bringing pleasure to everyone else. She had no need for them and would never again deign to put them on.

"After that little display, I truly wish I could keep you." He continued on and she felt a pang of loss. "Unfortunately, it would be too great a risk. As soon as you came by for your time in the glade, I put out a call to someone who had inquired about selling one of my collection.

"Because you are from around this area, there's always the possibility that people will recognize you, despite the changes. I can't have questions like that asked. You will be sent to a man who has single-handedly conquered his own kingdom. Never fear, he will have enough use for you. Even if he finds it difficult, he always has soldiers and courtiers he can reward with your services."

As he began to explain, she grew more and more afraid. She had just discovered the true purpose to life and he threatened to send her away. Thankfully, he explained that she would have plenty to explore. In the meantime, during the trip to wherever he intended to send her, she could certainly explore herself. And...well...maybe there would be guards along too.

That would be nice.

Copyright December 2011, by Deathlynx



Restocking The Glade Ch. 03



"I'm truly sorry to hear what has occurred." Bradrick apologized. Although insincere, the woman on the other end of the spell would never know. He was well experienced at deception. "Had I believed it was possible, I would never have sold one of my nymphs to your husband. I never thought he would have entered into the contract without your approval."

Queen Annalyse was not an unattractive woman. Although she had seen more than four decades, her figure remained firm. All the better, she had the bearing for royalty, despite the fact that she had reputedly been born in a brothel. Certainly, she had been nothing more than a tavern wench when then-warrior Carloff had discovered and wooed her.

"Approve? How could you have possibly thought I would approve of a nymph?"

"There are women who might find it adventurous to share another woman with their husband. Indeed, there are some, particularly in marriages of convenience such as nobility enters, that actually prefer the company of women to their men."

Bradrick kept any hint of irony out of his expression. In truth, the very nymph he'd provided them had once been a woman with just such interests. The queen flushed. It could never be said that hers was a marriage of convenience unless, of course, it was about the power she gleaned through manipulation of her husband. It was over the subject matter.

"How, exactly, could you not have seen this coming? Even an idiot should have realized that a man would take his pleasure when a nymph resided in his garden!" The queen accused. "Surely, as one of the most powerful wizards on the continent, you have more foresight than an idiot."

Sometimes, Bradrick wasn't all that certain of that fact. First, many idiots seemed to have remarkably perceptive heads on their shoulders, no matter what came from their mouths. Second, he had recently made some rather remarkable mistakes resulting from oversights on his part.

"Your majesty," that always mollified her at least a little, "please understand. It is told far and wide how devoted your husband is to you. If he had want of a highly skilled nymph, I could only assume that he wished to avail her services among his loyal followers. He is known for his wisdom and even an idiot knows the need to lead with a carrot as well as a switch."

Bradrick wasn't certain which of those lies was the most bold. Everyone knew that Carloff had no love for his wife. She had been a conquest, nothing more. She'd managed to trap him in marriage when she discovered the heights of power he might one day ascend to. A realization that occurred considerably before he had contemplated such a future. It was even said that she had goaded him into it.

Then, of course, there was the common knowledge of exactly how little the new king thought at all. He was a man of action, not leadership. Undoubtedly some of his soldiers and courtiers had made good use of his nymph, but it was far more likely they were anything but loyal. Carloff had doubtless reserved her for his own personal use and those brave souls had snuck in. He never would give up such a treasure willingly.

"I suppose." The queen responded, somewhat mollified. Although her anger with him had drained, her frustration over the situation had only grown. Now, she had no suitable outlet for her anger save the real culprit, her wayward husband.

As expected, she hadn't detected any of the lies. Of course, her lofty position had divorced her from reality very thoroughly. Unlike those born to nobility, she had yet to discover the means by which a ruler could glean the gossip that every maid knew. Then again, even many bred nobles neglected such a useful source of information.

"If I may make a suggestion?" Bradrick offered in a conciliatory tone. "Employ your own courtier as a form of vengeance against your husband. Not only would you teach him a lesson in fidelity but you would fulfill needs which he must obviously have neglected in order to have you so incensed."

Hope and vengeance brightened in her eyes at the thought. Bradrick could almost follow along as she plotted through the possibility. A moment later the frustration returned and her expression hardened further. "Who would be foolish enough to service me? The simple thought of such would be treason and my husband would take instant vengeance."

"You are quite correct." Bradrick schooled his face into defeat. He appeared to contemplate the problem for a moment. "However, if your suitor were suitably powerful, your husband might fear the repercussions should he attempt revenge. That would also put you beyond the scope of such retaliation by stint of your suitor's power."

A moment of hope and feral delight flashed across the queen's face before she attempted to eliminate it. The coy, innocent, expression she attempted to mask herself with would probably have been effective on most men. After all, she had practiced seduction throughout her life, practically from birth. He, however, saw through her illusion. He had guided her, stage by stage through the conversation to come to this very conclusion. She thought she was a master manipulator but she had never truly warred on his level.

"My dear Bradrick. I can only think of two men who might be powerful enough to give my husband pause. The first, Granlee, hasn't been seen in many years. Besides, I don't think I could sully myself to touch the old bag-of-bones, much less lie with him."

Even after all this time, Bradrick still bristled at the mention of his former nemesis. She had intentionally mentioned the liche to throw him off of his game. Too bad he actually knew where the "bag-of-bones" in question was. He might have become undead, but now he was just dead.

Bradrick pretended surprise at the suggestion that she left to dangle unsaid. "Your majesty! Surely you don't mean to suggest that I..."

"My good wizard, even in this backwoods kingdom, I have heard rumors of your prowess. You are a gifted and skilled...wizard. Certainly even King Carloff would hesitate to engage your wrath?"

It was clear from the purr in her voice that Annalyse suggested the rumors were about more than his 'prowess' as a wizard. He didn't know if it was true or not. Frankly, he didn't care. He had more than enough nymphs in his glade that variety was never a problem for him. If he decided that he needed a bit more, he could simply stock another.

Years of deception allowed Bradrick the skill to blush when necessary. He stammered something he hoped was convincingly humble. Now that she had tried flattery, she switched tactics and used guilt, as expected.

"Do you not find me attractive? Has my form grown so old as to lack appeal? Has my face grown so weary with time?"

"Never, your majesty!" Bradrick instantly responded. "Were that the case then I could not conceive of your beauty as a young lass! Today, you rival the goddess of love and beauty, and it is said to be impossible to surpass the divine within their sphere of influence!"

The blush that crept over Annalyse could have been as false as his own, but he doubted it. The manner in which her impressive cleavage leapt into view, upon her intake of breath, could be no accident, however. Bradrick wasn't as impressed as most men would have but he stared inappropriately in the manner she hoped for. To him, it was what was between her legs that was most interesting.

"Then, perhaps, you need to pay our court a visit?" Queen Annalyse suggested. "How long would it take for you to make such a journey?"

At last! Bradrick had anticipated that question long before he had contacted the queen. A flick of his wrist tossed the finely blown crystal globe into a carefully prepared fire. The world wrenched and twisted at his body for what seemed like an eternity before it finally sorted itself out. "I think you could say it would take no time at all." He replied mildly.

Annalyse spun away from the now-empty mirror to regard him. Her first instinct was to scream for her guards. Royalty could never be too careful. It was particularly poignant when they had gained power in the manner in which Annalyse and Carloff had. Only the nature of their conversation kept her instincts in check.

It took a few moments for her mind to catch up to the situation. Bradrick watched patiently. He could see, in her unguarded expression, when she finally managed to engage her brain. The sultry demeanor not only returned but grew wildly with the realization that she need not wait the months that travel would require to have her revenge.

"Well! I certainly hope that travel is the only thing that wizards accomplish quickly. Speed has its uses, but there are some things that should be savored."

Her hands reached up to the puffy shoulders of her dress. What had probably taken the aid of her servants a considerable amount of time to don, slid freely from her shoulders. The weight of all those layers of fabric dragged the expensive gown to pool at her feet. Annalyse delicately stepped free of the material and stood before him in all of the glory of her natural beauty.

Bradrick hadn't needed to exaggerate much when he compared her to a goddess. There was no question how the warrior had fallen for her. Even with a veritable harem of unearthly beauty at his disposal, Bradrick's manhood jumped at the sight before him. The loose robes he wore did little to disguise his reaction and brought a hungry smile to her lips.

"I see you spoke truly. You do find me appealing." Annalyse purred as she glided across the room. "And the rumors do not do you justice. I find myself nearly breathless at the size of the power you can bring to bear."

To accent the innuendo, her hands reached out to close around his manhood, through the soft material of his robes. Bradrick rather suspected it really was his power that enticed her so greatly, and not his shaft, but he was willing to acknowledge that he'd been blessed with a fair specimen of the later as well.

"What...what would you have of me, your majesty?"

Annalyse leaned in close. Her body pressed against his, only the single layer of clothing between him and her luscious breasts. Her hands remained firmly around his cock, warmed by their combined bodies. She guided it carefully, as she stepped close, so that the tip now nestled comfortably at the juncture of her legs.

"Everything." She breathed into his ear.

Her hands released him, confident he would remained trapped by the wonderful softness of her legs. She reached up and parted the front of his robe. In a motion very similar to her own gown, his clothes slipped off his shoulders and fell to the floor.

Annalyse took a step back to regard him. Although her expression never changed from that sultry hunger, he could see in her eyes the wince at his slight gut. If the years had been kind to her, they had not been so forgiving to him. His years of adventure had ended a decade ago, unless one counted his sexual appetites. Unfortunately, those did not allow him to keep his physique in light of the scholarly work he now pursued.

"It is said," she mentioned while she stared longingly at his hard form, "that it is unfitting for any but a man's wife to taste him. Similarly, a woman of good virtue will only take her husband into her mouth."

She looked up and angry eyes met his. "That bitch of a nymph you sent has swallowed my husband on many an occasion. Indeed, the final straw was a banquet where he snuck her under the table to service him even as he ate and joked with his men."

She snorted in derision. "No. He didn't 'sneak' her in. He made a pretense of it, but every single one of his soldiers knew she was there. He had the grace not to moan when he came in her mouth, but he still made jest of the 'creamy sauce' he delivered."

Annalyse licked her lips in an unconscious gesture when her eyes returned to Bradrick's manhood. "I should taste you. I should take you in my mouth. I should goad you until you spill yourself inside of me and waste not a single drop, as he jested with his men that your fey did."

Bradrick couldn't help the way his cock jumped with each suggestion. The thought of those perfect lips buried within his coarse hairs was maddening. As a tavern wench, she would undoubtedly be well versed in such pleasure. He had little doubt that she could do exactly as she claimed. She could let him pierce her throat, swallow every drop his body had to give, and then coax and milk even more from him!

A coy smile shifted up to meet his gaze. "I can see that you like the thought. Perhaps later, then. Make that a promise to entice your return and my safety. I can assure you, you will not regret your patience."

He smiled back at her. Before either of them could say any more, she stepped forward. The queen was tall and although Bradrick wasn't short he could not boast the same. As a result, her bow-legged slither allowed his cock to slide perfectly between her legs. He wasn't really inside of her, yet, but the way her legs closed around him offered the first hint of what she planned.

Her breasts pressed against his chest and caused his breath to hitch. Her hard nipples rested perfectly against his and sent a jolt of excitement through his body. She brought her arms up to rest her elbows on his shoulders and her fingers played idly with his hair.

"I want you to fuck me." She said simply. She grinned when the crude language caused his lust to pulse, trapped between her legs. "You will mark me. Cum deep and hard inside me. Make me scream your name over and over."

Bradrick had to swallow hard to get any air past the lump that formed in his throat. Even then, his breath was so ragged it was difficult to speak. She knew her game and, if she wasn't careful, the first seed he loosed would be between her legs alright but not inside of her!

"Majesty," he breathed. "While I would love nothing more than to hear you scream my name in pleasure, perhaps now is not the best time. Let us join, but let no one hear us. That way you can choose the time best suited to the revelation of your revenge."

A pout instantly erupted within her features that he was certain was not feigned. Disappointment tinged her eyes. "Bradrick, my Bradrick, I can't help that. I want to feel you inside me, feel your hot seed burst into my pussy. If I do, I can't help but scream out. I simply cannot make myself be quiet. The entire castle knows how seldom the king visits my chamber for lack of the cries!"

This was a difficulty that Bradrick had not anticipated. Annalyse was not a woman who would consent to be bound, even if only her mouth. Fortunately, there was a simple sollution, well suited to one of his training.

"There is a spell that might work." Bradrick answered with more confidence as the plan began to congeal in his mind. "It is designed to render another magician unable to cast spells. For most of my kind, if they cannot speak, they cannot cast. You would be rendered mute for the durration. Even your breath would be soundless."

Hope and fire sprung into her eyes. "Yes! Do it! And if you could, give me an amulet with that spell so I could use it as I please."

Bradrick suppressed a chuckle. He had discovered the reason that she had not taken other lovers before. His nymph had been at the castle for months now. Obviously the king had completely forgone the charms of his wife if she was this desperate.

"Of course, your majesty. For you, I will not even charge cost for its creation. Think of it as an appropriate apology for what you have been forced to suffer." He instantly offered. "Unfortunately, such an artifact requires time and preparation. For now, however, I can cast the spell with ease myself."

It took three attempts to cast such a simple spell. The moment he agreed, her hips began to roll forward and back. Although not yet within her, the effect on him was much more pronounced than if she'd used her hands. The plush warmth of her thighs gave far too close an approximation of her depths. She didn't even lack the damp lubrication. Clearly she was as excited for her revenge as he was.

When the spell finished, her soft moans instantly ceased. Annalyse paused in surprise. Her mouth opened, her lips moved, but nothing came out. Feeling experimental, one hand slipped between their bodies and he could feel her finger twitch across her engorged clit. Her head dropped back, and her jaw open, but not even a whisper of her delight escaped.

Bradrick had never considered this use for the spell before. Although he enjoyed the various sounds that he inspired in the women he lay with, there was something viscerally exciting about the knowledge that no one would be able to hear her reaction, no matter what he did to her.

Annalyse's hand jerked out from between their bodies to clutch at his waist. Her fingers twisted in his hair and she led dragged him along towards the bed. Given that she refused to release his manhood, as she shuffled backwards, it would have been more than enough to have driven him with her. Skillfully, she lay down when her knees brushed the edge of the bed. She guided him down with ease until he lay on top of her. Never once did her legs release the prize they kept captive.

Only when they were safely down, on the expensive mattress, did her thighs open for him. Before he could even think to adjust himself, those legs snaked out to enfold his waist. His body jerked as she pulled him towards her. His lust speared straight and true into her soaking hot pussy, an impossible feat that suggested experience gained while more than just a mere tavern wench.

Annalyse's mouth dropped open as her head flung back once more. Her back arched heavily. Yet for all of the sudden motion, only the sharp swelling of her chest suggested the sheer volume her voice would have reached had the spell not been in place.

Bradrick was more than happy to oblige. He planted his hands on either side of her shoulders and threw his hips forward. Her body jumped, once more, beneath his. Her legs loosened slightly, as he pulled himself almost all of the way out, only to constrict again in anticipation of another sharp thrust.

The rhythm became frantic almost immediately. The way her legs urged him on was almost as enticing as the silent screams. Her pussy, too long unused, grabbed at him and refused to let loose. He dragged his way out and bulled her aside when he buried his cock even deeper inside her core.

From the way her body shook, the way she gripped the sheets, the refusal of her legs to let go with each withdrawal, her climax had already begun in earnest. Bradrick discovered that her release spurred him on just as insistently as if he were able to hear every moan and scream of passion. Her pussy began to spasm even as it tried to pull him deeper. It was all too much.

Bradrick did allow himself to sound off when he felt his seed explode inside of her. His animal grunts and growls were too soft to travel far through the thick stone walls. She would have ensured that no guards were posted just beyond her door or else they would have heard their conversation, much less the sounds of his climax.

Those growls seemed to excite Annalyse even further. Or maybe it was the feel of the cum he began to pour into her tight, wet, pussy. Her hips and legs began to buck wildly. Her arms flailed out of control and she lifted off the bed as her neck took all of her weight.

Bradrick drove himself deeper and deeper. He lost himself in the need to thrust his seed straight into her very core. He didn't know if she was fertile but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the way that her body encouraged him, begged him to fill her up and leave her overflowing with his opalescent cream.

His body began to weaken long before either of their resolves. In the queen, he seemed to have found a woman who reveled in the pleasure of the rut as much as he did. It was too bad he could not make her one of his nymphs. She would have been without peer in the glade, particularly if he cultivated her transformation carefully.




Restocking The Glade Ch. 03



Unfortunately, she was far too high profile for that fate. Her husband would never rest in the search for his wife. It wasn't that Carloff held any particular fondness for the woman, not anymore at least, it was just that his pride would not allow him to lose any of his possessions without incident.

With that thought, Bradrick finally allowed his body its weakness and collapsed on top of the curvacious woman. Her legs remained coiled around him and kept them firmly connected, even as he began to soften inside of her. Finally, by mutual consent, they disentangled and lay side-by-side. A wave of his hand banished the spell and her ragged gasps immediately returned.

"By the gods!" She rasped. "Had you not cast that spell, I believe, I would have been heard clear back at your glade! To be truthful, I had not expected more than a mild enjoyment of my revenge. Now, that thought seems paltry and unworthy of you. I do hope you can make this visit a regular one."

Bradrick chuckled knowingly as he pulled himself up and wandered, unsteadily over to the window. He made certain he was far enough back to remain unseen by anyone from the garden below or the walls off in the distance. "You have a beautiful...garden, you know. Very well cultivated. I would see every flower within and discover every beauty it contained."

Annalyse slipped up beside him and stood directly in the window. It didn't matter if anyone saw her there. It was, after all, her chambers. "My good wizard, you have no idea what wonders my garden has to offer."

Bradrick smiled widely. His hand slid over to cup the small of her back. She pressed against him fondly but quickly relaxed her posture as he began to rub small circles. Her contented sigh was enough for him.

The queen never expected the harsh shove. Her lithe grace, her experience and skill in bed, even her practice dodging drunks in a crowded tavern with a tray full of drinks, never prepared her for such a simple assault. Annalyse flailed for a moment but it was too late. Her fingers scrambled for a grip on the rough stone but her balance was gone and her weight pulled her over.

Bradrick adjusted his angle enough to glance out the window. It was enough to see the unnatural angle of her neck. It might be possible for divine intervention to return her from the dead but it wouldn't matter to him. None could ever remember most of the day before they had died. Besides, he expected Carloff wouldn't bother. He'd make a fuss about his wife's death but he would be well and truly satisfied with her gone. Maybe Bradrick should even charge the king for the service.

While Bradrick crossed the room to collect his robe, he considered the necessity that led him to his actions. He always monitored the few nymphs he allowed to leave his glade. It was imperative! Occasionally, one of the women among the servants would reveal herself to favor the companionship of women over men. When they eventually sought out his nymph, it was imperative that Bradrick collect them before the curse ran it's course.

He had never anticipated that a royal herself would dally. They usually understood the need to be more discreet than that! When Annalyse's curiosity got the better of her and drove her to discover what it was that her husband had given her up for, she had ensured her own demise.

It was one thing to collect some peasant slut. No one would question when a new nymph appeared in his glade. The people he sold nymphs to were too far away to worry about stumbling in and recognizing them. After all, he only sold those who came from his own region for the express purpose of getting them far enough away that no one would discover their identity. Calliope, the woman who had become the nymph that Carloff bought, had been just such a woman. He'd sent her far enough away that his secret would never be revealed.

Bradrick couldn't simply "collect" a queen, however. There was too much chance that she might be recognized, despite the distance. Besides, if royalty vanished then a systematic hunt would begin for them. No, she had to die and it needed to look like an accident.

More importantly, it had to happen before the first onset of the curse.

He scooped up his robe and quickly slipped it on. A scream wrenched the night and booted feet could be heard headed in his direction. It was time to go. A look around proved there was nothing that could connect him to the deed.

If they looked hard enough, they would find his seed within her. The brief fling had been amusing enough that he didn't care. He didn't expect Carloff to care enough. Even if they did, there was no magician that could overcome his wards.

With a smile, Bradrick vanished, back to his manor. His work was complete. His secret was safe.

Copyright December 2011, by Deathlynx



Restocking The Glade



She was more than ready for him. Bradrick had known she would be. He let out a growl of satisfaction. She hadn't been untouched, that much was certain, but she retained the tightness of one who seldom allowed herself to indulge in the desires of her body.

That would change, soon enough. Not the transformation itself. Although there were some physical alterations that came with her "ascendance" that was not one of them. No. With the primal aggressiveness she displayed, she would be the perfect plaything for the less cultured clients. Soon enough the orcs, trolls, and other less savory patrons, would plow her wide. And she would love every minute of it, goading them with her teeth and nails.

Even now, her nails dug into his shoulders. Her hips bounced up and down as she desperately brought herself closer and closer to climax. Bradrick knew he'd have to watch himself closely. The ferocity of her passion, the way her body clung to him and pressed around his solid member, the slick ease with which she rode him, all brought him closer to his own delight than he'd anticipated.

The growls she elicited suited her alto voice. Her head flipped back, with tightly shut eyes, and she enjoyed herself as she had never before allowed. Bradrick was desperate to cast another little spell he had created. A form of telepathy would link their senses and allow him to experience not only the flush of excitement of his own body but the levels of pleasure that only a woman could achieve. He delayed, however. It was not yet time.

Her muscles began to clench more and more tightly. She was close. Another couple of repetitions and she would lose herself to the joy of orgasm. Her body would instantly begin the transformation it had so long fought.

With all his strength, Bradrick tossed her from his prone body. Even as intent as she was to complete her transformation, or maybe more to the point frustrated at not being able to finish, the action stunned her. Before she could come to her senses, he stood up in front of her.

Frustrated by the sudden stop, her hands reached up to flail at the object of her desire. He batted her hands away with ease. Her trained warrior skills could once have tossed him to the ground with ease. Unfortunately for her, the curse had stolen what sentience she might have had. She was on the ground already. He was the one who needed to join her. It defied her need to rise any farther than necessary, even to get him in reach.

Bradrick had discovered, quite by accident, that the slavish devotion to instinct could be manipulated in his nymphs. Those who submitted early, to the curse, grew to have some control over the demands of their bodies. If isolated long enough, they would still fail in their resistance and throw themselves at the first person they encountered. However, it still required true isolation, as even their fellow nymphs could satisfy them for quite some time.

The week that had passed since the onset of symptoms already meant it would be difficult for her to resist her urges after transformation. The longer he kept her close to orgasm without release, the more desperate she would become. As it was, he expected she would probably jump at any and every patron he brought to the glade. Only the limitations of her stamina would stop her.

Her flailing began to weaken. That was ideal. When he pushed her, she fell to her back complacently. Only the whimper of need, the spread of her legs, and the roll of her hips demonstrated the focus of what strength remained in her body. Bradrick knelt between her legs and took a moment to savor the view. She was impatient with need but his location settled her.

One thing about elves, they never needed to shave in order to keep themselves smooth. Together with her race's generally smaller breasts and slender figures, it made them appear much younger to the average human. Of course, the fact that elves aged far more slowly also made difficulties in judging their ages. For a human, she might have been in her mid-teens, with racial characteristics that made her look younger still. In truth, she had more likely seen five decades or more.

Bradrick's hands rested on her knees. Her entire body shuddered as he pushed her legs wider and settled comfortably against her. The tip of his shaft barely tickled her but her whimpers grew out of proportion to the light contact. He ran his fingers up her legs and trailed them up her body. He shifted his weight to reach out for her breasts without the need to actually lean forward and pierce her.

It was nearly as maddening for him to take it slowly as it was for her! Less than an inch of his tip pressed into her soft mounds and it pulsed in demand to push past her tight depths and explode within her. The scent of the leather and parchment she had surrounded herself with for the last week now mingled liberally with the strength of her lust.

Maybe I won't put this one in the glade. Bradrick mused. He'd considered keeping his own personal nymph at his manor but always discarded the idea before. After all, if he wanted one, he could always attend his own glade. None of his previous conquests had seemed suitably special that he felt the need to restrict their use.

There would be time to make such decisions later, he realized. After her judged the results of her transformation. It was always possible her final form wouldn't please him as much as her current body. Then there was the concern that she might be more than a little too demanding. Even if her endurance could handle non-stop sex, he wasn't sure his could. And that didn't take into consideration the other demands on his time. No, likely he would merely visit her occasionally within his glade.

He cupped her breasts, gave them a sharp squeeze. She gasped. Her hips rolled and brought another fraction of an inch inside herself. Her hands clutched the bed of leaves.

Bradrick threw himself into her with a grunt of satisfaction. Her scream contained more than a little portion of pain. Even as overly-ready as she was, the speed of his thrust forced its way through muscles unused to their purpose. The sound, as much the pleasurable portion as the pain, caused his weapon to pulse larger which, in turn, forced another scream from her. This time nearly all pleasure.

The hard and fast rhythm suited both of them perfectly. This wasn't "making love". This wasn't even about sex. She needed him to fuck her, pure and simple. As aroused as he had become by the helplessness to her condition, he knew he'd be able to keep going even after he began to cum. He expected to pump his seed into her throughout the entirety of her transformation.

It took only seconds before her skin began to glow with the culmination of the curse. Her screams echoed throughout the forest. He no longer cared if there were searchers out after her. It was too late for them to save her from her fate. All such possible rescuers could do would be to stand by in witness.

The woman's back arched so hard she lifted from the ground. Her knees slammed closed on his sides. Gods! If she'd been tight before, the shift of her legs practically trapped him buried to the hilt inside of her! It was the last straw that pushed him over the edge.

His balls expelled their load. It burned upwards through the too-small tube in a delicious explosion. As if timed to his own climax, which he knew from experience it wasn't, her body burst into the full luminescence.

Her hipbones spread outward before they swept slightly down to form a greater "v" shape than her elfin heritage. The change shifted her legs, already pressed against him, and further tightened her core. The difference, he knew, allowed nymphs to handle even longer and larger men the room to fully sheath themselves. At least, once she'd been broken in a bit more.

Bradrick groaned as the extra pressure excited his already swelled member. Her hips dug into his groin, a secondary advantage of the transformation, to encourage another burst of cum. This was the biggest reason he enjoyed personally overseeing the completion of the curse. It wasn't often a man could claim multiple orgasms but it was almost guaranteed here!

It took an act of will to keep his eyes open but Bradrick gladly spent his focus as freely as his seed. The change in her hips shortened her abdomen slightly but the difference wasn't as noticeable as the sudden narrowing that accompanied it as the curse worked its way up her body. Her ribcage shifted a little to become more tapered but otherwise remained untouched.

The single largest, noticeable, adjustment followed. Her breasts became almost impossible to gaze at as the curse brightened once again. The glow swelled as the flesh beneath grew from soft mounds into veritable melons. Barely visible beneath the magical light, her areola shrunk to the size of coins. Her nipples similarly adjusted to nearly the size of the tip of a quill. Both lightened until they were only a shade or so darker than the pale skin tone that surrounded them.

Bradrick threw himself backwards. Unwilling to relinquish its bliss, his body shot another load towards her even as he fell. His manhood continued to twitch and leak but he scurried to grab his britches and put them on.

No sooner than he tied his pants and stood then he noticed the glow had begun to recede. Elves were always the quickest to recover from their metamorphosis. He suspected it was because they were the closest race relative to the fey. Fully clothed once more, though his pants were soiled with some additional leakage, there was less to incite the newly transformed nymph.

A soprano giggle escaped the buxom beauty. One of her hands idly toyed with her expanded breasts. Meanwhile, the other hand discovered the slick trail he had left up her stomach when he pulled out. She smeared it around a little before she followed it back to its source. He was nearly unmanned by the sight of her fingers as they slid between her legs and began to work in and out, as if to push the seep of cum back inside.

His newest nymph was a thing of absolute wonder. As expected, she seemed unable to concentrate on anything but the ceaseless demands of her lust. Where most of his previous victims would have attempted to seduce him, had he remained unclothed, she would have attacked him.

She was so consumed by her own ministrations that she didn't notice Bradrick until he crossed to stand directly above her. Vacant eyes lifted to stare at him. Another high-pitched giggle escaped. Only then did she think to reach for him in an attempt to add a partner for her pleasure. With the hand that had fondled her breasts, of course. The other continued to spear her depths almost negligently.

Bradrick held out a hand for her. He was careful not to kneel or otherwise return to her level. She might get it in her extremely limited mind to play with him, clothes or no. Once they were safely back at his manor, he might concede to letting her use her mouth, but not until.

"Come along. I have a glade that is perfect as your new home." Those empty eyes continued to stare. "There is food and nectar, and soft grass to lie on. And men will visit. More than enough to satisfy even your extensive appetite."

She took his hand and managed to stand without removing her hand from between her legs. Never once did it occur to her to even glance at her discarded clothes. A little interest managed to find its way through her thoughts at the mention of a soft place to lie down. When he told her of the men he finally saw her brain engage. Her eyes lit up with a primal fire.

Despite the resemblance of her body, her face in particular, very little remained of the warrior-scholar elf he'd hit with the cursed dart. Certainly nothing of her mind. That was fine with Bradrick. She was perfectly suited to her new life.

Copyright December 2011, by Deathlynx



Restocking



"And eighteen of the twenty who went down have been changed back. The internal differences that you would encounter are minor and would not be inherited by us if we eliminate them. I hope that our different varieties of skin colors will not be a problem. We have heard that sometimes..."

"No problem," said Dennis. "Colored people are fine with me, though these colors are not ones I expected."

The abandoned car at Montgomery Blair High School was traced to a man whose apartment was also abandoned and whose co-tenant was also missing. The shelves of groceries only added to the puzzle, which was never solved.

Dennis and Martin settled to their new life easily, though from time to time they had to take pills for vitamin deficiency. The medical knowledge of the Tinswe kept hem alive and active in all ways until they were a hundred years old, more or less - though they had long lost track of the years by then.

It is questionable whether Martin realized that the last Sofoni he took into his arms was the grand-daughter of the first.

What they had not lost track of, because they had never been told, was that some of their sperm had been saved unaltered, and some Tinswe ova had been altered to human genetic characteristics. There had been prolonged debate over whether it violated the spirit of the mission, but several more or less human males had been produced to ease the load on the fading powers of Martin and Dennis, and in time replace them.