Thank you very much for your interest in this sex-enriched fantasy story. I do hope what meager talent I have to offer will give you a little break from your everyday life and lend wings to your imagination. Now I don’t consider myself a “professional” writer of any sort, though I do strive to present my tales as well as I possibly can. If you have questions, if you feel like giving me a verbal pat on the back or a harsh lecture (or really anything in between, I’ll take what feedback I can get), I do have a couple of links for your convenience at the end of this file.
— Paul
With that out of the way, obligatory disclaimer, titles and recap below. Or skip straight to the story.
CONTENT WARNING: The text below is, by its intent, explicit in nature. It is unrated and for mature audiences only. This is neither intended nor suitable for any minors, nor adults that do not want to be exposed to descriptions of non-realistic sexual intercourse in a fantasy setting. It is your own choice and responsibility if you continue reading.
I’ll break it down for those hard of understanding:
Non-realistic — The things described herein do not work in the real world. Not At All! And by that, I mean “not at all”. Just like you can’t turn a frog into a prince, there’s no way to turn the plain maid into a big-chested princess by blowing her up. You’ll just end up with pieces of dead plain maid all over the room. So, don’t even for a second think about it. I can’t believe I’m actually writing this. It’s like having to say, “hey, you know, broomsticks don’t really fly, so you better not grab one and jump out the window, m’kay?” Are there really people that stupid out there? Gosh, I hope I never meet one of those.
Sexual intercourse — Two or more people of the same or different sex and legal age, doing teh nastay together. Ask yourself, and be honest: Do You Want To Read About That? Should you read about that? Are you legally entitled to read that? If "No", then What Are You Doing Here?
Fantasy setting — Far, far away in a mirror universe. Faery tale. Magic. Wizardry. Totally made up. Out of this world. In other words, restating the obvious: Do Not Try This At Home!
Siren Song
by
Paul Gerard (a pen name)
First Draft started 2008-06-17
This version 2013-11-16
Proof-reading: A very heartfelt thank you to CoffeePilot for his time and patience.
Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind’s stage.
This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1186-7, if you’re one for nitpicking.
The Siren Song Extended — Menena’s Comeuppance
Obscure inspirational music reference:
“… The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I ever had …” — Tears for Fears, Mad World
Once upon a winter storm, a young woman named Barbara saved a young man named David from drowning. As these things often go, they fell in love. As these things also often go, their love was frowned upon by the girl’s mistress, rich and influential Menena, the town’s mayor, who was smitten with David (or rather, the huge cock he was blessed with). Not one to take rejection lightly, she kept on making the young couple’s life miserable any which way she could. Things took a turn for the worse when Barbara became the target of a gaggle of mermaids’ plan to procure themselves a new Feeder, and Menena’s meddling in those tricky affairs of transformation magic caused quite spectacular developments on Barbara’s body. Barbara and David barely made it to safety, or at least out of Menena’s greedy claws into the somewhat fishy embrace of the mermaids.
Will Menena get away with her misdeeds? Read on to find out …
Two years ago, 1185 …
“What — what — what,” mocked Menena, towering akimbo over the half-dressed, convulsing woman. “What I’m going to do? I already did! I made you my very own milk cow, that’s what I’ve done.” She leaned down and grabbed Barbara’s hair, forcing her face up. “Don’t you need relief, huh? Don’t you long for a pair of hands to ease your swollen burden before you burst? And who else can you turn to now, huh? Who in this whole village will not burn you at the stake, huh? So down, cow! On your hands and knees, and crawl to the back room like the obedient livestock you are! I want to see you hang your teats into the milk bucket right now!”
Chapter 24: A Mermaid’s Court
Summer of 1187 …
The midday sun burned down on the secluded stretch of stone beach beneath the cliffs. A sole narrow path led down to the water’s edge, and it was more of a chain of depressions caused by sagging earth and withering rock than a real footpath. The woman of forty cautiously watched her step as she slowly climbed down the treacherous route. Sand and stones gave way under her feet, and she struggled to maintain her balance. It only worked every so often, and her palms and elbows were scuffed already. The landward wind pulled at her raven tresses that might have been lush and shiny in the morning but by now were a sweaty, matted mane with gray spots of dust and dirt.
She gasped for air as her feet slipped out from under her. Falling hard on her sizable buttocks, she slid down a couple of yards until she caught her heels. Her momentum made her flip forward. She stumbled on and ended up face down on a small hill of softer sand. Grunting, spitting and cursing she clambered to her feet and brushed the loose sand from her dress and her round face.
“Yes, Menena, just like you deserve it,” she chided herself under her breath. “Be a good girl and go and get your punishment.” The way she wiped the sand from her face could’ve easily been mistaken for a couple of painful slaps on the cheeks.
Menena’s clothes were worn and ragged. The remainder of a drab tunic slung around her chest was so wide and baggy that it just barely hinted at the heavy, breathtakingly huge breasts hidden underneath. A length of old rope held the cloth in place; it cut into her slight paunch, resulting in a mesh of pleats that extended from her waist down to the frayed rim of the fabric at the height of her knees. Dust and dried blots of dirt covered the bright skin of her naked shins and feet. The supremely well-preserved forty-something raven stopped just out of reach of the waves. Her face was contorted by pain; the coarse cobbles covering the beach pressed into her bare soles and ground against the bones and joints in her feet. She gulped and panted flatly, struggling against rising shame to get the words out. Facing the ocean, she groaned, “Here I am. I — I’ve been bad.” Tears stung in her eyes.
A chain of bubbles drew in from the open sea and neared the edge where water met land. Inch by inch, a head with soaked short green hair rose from the surface. Bright green eyes flashed under thin, slightly triangular eyebrows. A frown reached from the forehead across the small button nose to Anosthea’s upper lip, revealing the mermaid witch’s sharp teeth.
“Bad?” she replied as she cocked her head. “I don’t think ‘bad’ is quite the word for it.” Rivulets of water ran down her girlish torso that matched the height of Menena’s. The onset of her long prehensile fish tail broke the surface as she kept on rising higher. Tiny scales glittered like scattered silver dots on her skin above the belt around her flaring hips. They gradually became bigger towards her thighs until the girl skin disappeared completely and the illusion of two firm muscular thighs changed into a silver fish tail with a faint tiger pattern spreading from her back to the almost blindingly white front.
Menena’s breathing came faster. She lowered her head and turned her gaze away. “E—evil. I’ve — I’ve done evil things.”
“Oh yes you have,” nodded the mermaid. Wet leather creaked in her right hand’s grip. Menena shuddered and shrunk at the faint noise.
“I told you,” continued the green-haired girl. She raised her slender fingers to her right nipple and ran her fingertips in circles around the slowly hardening nub. “Mmmh. I told you you’d be punished, did I not?”
“Yes,” whispered Menena.
“Yes?” A short hiss, barely a word.
Nothing of the mayor woman’s former proud demeanor remained as she drew her lower lip over her teeth and stammered with trembling jaw, “Y—yes, M—mistress.”
The tip of the whip cracked across her cheek, inches from her eyes. Menena jerked in surprise and pain. A drop of blood swelled slowly from the cut in her skin before beginning its journey down her jawline.
“And—?” Anosthea’s question sounded more like a long-drawn moan. The tip of her long snake tongue moistened her lips. Her fingertips pinched the coarse hard raspberry of her right nipple. “You wouldn’t submit yourself to castigation if you didn’t hope to gain something from it.” She spat out.
“I — I ask for the gift, though I don’t deserve it,” panted Menena.
“Damn right you don’t deserve the gift!” roared the girl. Her arm flicked forward, and the whip’s thin leather rope flew in a wide arc until it coiled around Menena’s throat. The mermaid pulled. Her catch stumbled into the water. Menena lost her balance and would’ve splashed down if not for the webbed fingers suddenly wrapping around her neck. Anosthea’s big eyes filled her sight. The siren’s salty ocean breath washed over Menena’s face.
“And now,” growled Anosthea as Menena had no choice but to cock her head sideways in the mermaid’s grip, “you will learn about turning the other cheek.”
Her tongue slipped out and sampled the crimson rivulet sticking to Menena’s left cheek. “Mmmh. How come someone so venomous can taste so sweet?” breathed the siren. She changed her position in a fluid slithering motion and turned her prey’s head over until Menena’s right cheek pointed up and forward. The short but sharp nail of the mermaid’s left forefinger dug a fraction of an inch into the skin. Agonizingly slow, she pulled her natural talon across the pale surface. Tiny drops of red erupted in its wake, and Anosthea pouted and pressed a sucking kiss on the long slice. When she drew away and threw back her head with a fiendish giggle, her lips were dark red.
“Mistress,” whimpered Menena.
Anosthea let go and slithered away without a word. Menena dropped to her hands and knees in the shallow surf. She wiped her bloodied cheeks with the back of her hand and sucked in air as the saltwater bit into the wounds.
“Please, Mistress, I — may I now —,” she begged.
The young mermaid watched her with outward contempt while rolling up the long whip and tying it to her belt.
“Oh, so you want your gift anyway? The gift from our generous feeder? Behind the big rock. To your right. To the last drop,” she said with a sneer.
Menena struggled to her feet and stumbled towards the boulder. Anosthea watched with her arms crossed over her chest as the raven turned the corner, stopped suddenly and then grew even paler. A tiny corked flask sat innocently on a small flat protrusion near the top of the boulder, and three huge buckets full of milk stood at the foot of the rock. The raven shrunk and drew up her shoulders, pressed her elbows into her sides and hunched forward as she turned to the mermaid swaying slowly in the surf. Menena desperately wrung her hands.
“Thank you for your generosity, Mistress, but — so much? Three whole buckets? I —”
“I remember a woman who mocked a girl for giving a mere bucket. You want it? Drink. It. All. Or leave empty handed, while you can.”
Menena cast a quick glance and licked her lips. She hesitated, then her voice grew whiney. “Oh please, please, Mistress Anosthea, I wasn’t that evil, I swear! Please, let me just take them along without —”
“And you think I care?” was the angry reply. “Leave, or drink it all. Here. Now.”
Menena raised the first heavy pail to her lips. Gulp by gulp, the treacherously delicious liquid, still slightly warm, ran down her gullet and filled her belly. She sensed every tiny shiver and faint sting while her skin stretched reluctantly. A quarter into the two gallons, she felt the touch of her dress’ coarse cloth against her swelling paunch, and she hesitated and lowered the bucket, burping deeply. Her breath came quicker already; the bloated bag of her stomach fought her lungs for room.
The mermaid watched her nonchalantly, laying prone in the surf and resting her cocked head on her meshed fingers.
“Sated yet? That won’t do!” she purred with a sardonic smile. “Go on! You haven’t even finished the first, there’s two more waiting.”
Menena moaned quietly, put the half-emptied bucket down and cradled her wobbly belly. “I — I can’t stomach any more,” she panted and sagged to her knees.
Anosthea angled her hip and drew close a coil of her long tail, giving herself leverage to righten up. She smirked and pointed with the handle of her whip.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we? You know what the little flask is for, don’t you? That’s my gift to the mean shrew. Bottoms up!”
Menena swallowed the tangy mouthful of potion and shuddered in revulsion. Moments later, the shudder returned, spreading through her whole body. The blueish veins that had barely shown through her pale skin grew thicker, bulging across the tumid orb of her belly. Spreading from her navel, her skin flushed and groaned. Heat started burning inside her as the potion dissolved in the liquid overfilling her stomach. The mixture of milk and magic soaked into her fleshy midriff. The round protrusion dominating her front lost some of its pumped-up shape, sagged lower and spread towards her womb. The ragged tunic groaned now that any hint of wrinkles had disappeared from the cloth. Menena’s hands rubbed frantically over her swelling stomach.
“Gods, I’m — I’m bloating! I’m — uhhhh! — stretching — growing — mercy!”
“Now it’ll all fit, easily. Drink. It.” Anosthea leaned forward, licking her lips. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as the kneeling woman obeyed and raised the bucket once again.
As Anosthea stared, her throat, dry with arousal, mimicked every swallowing motion of her increasingly desperate visitor. Gulp by gulp, Menena’s distending midriff accepted the remaining half a gallon of the first bucket. She panted and moaned, staggering to her haunches on the coarse pebbles. Her womb slapped down on her thighs. Her massive breasts pushed down on the rubbery ball from above, and her legs blocked the way from below. The flushed navel popped out like a third nipple and stayed that way even as the wandering waves across her stretched skin calmed down. Menena gasped for air and inhaled deeply. The sudden surge in size overwhelmed the old fabric stretching taut around her spherical belly. The cloth gave way with a screeching noise and split in a line extending up and down from her navel. The frayed edge crept over the pale, distending skin swelling through the gap. Anosthea’s eyes were fixed on the sight of the thin-skinned orb that obliterated the worn cloth with ease.
“And it’s just the first bucket,” she whispered. A wave splashed against the fold between her buttocks, and she shuddered with arousal. Louder she commanded, “Go on, what are you waiting for?”
“Yes, Mistress,” panted her obedient slave.
Menena grabbed the second serving with trembling hands. Her lips touched the coarse rim. Milk spilled over her cheeks and ran down into the funnel of her cleavage, then in winding rivulets over her belly’s orb. Not a drop went to waste; her skin hungrily soaked up the surplus and added it to the sphere of milk.
“Yes,” moaned the wide-eyed mermaid, mesmerized by the swelling, already barely human-looking orb creature that Menena slowly turned into. Every mouthful added to her immense girth. Little remained of the cloth. It tore more open with every passing drop and every passing second, already unveiling the horizontal fold where the pair of Menena’s huge yet dwarfed breasts, still contained in the last rags of the rough tunic, rested on the bloated ball. The first glistening stretch marks spread like thin cobwebs from her navel. Their mesh widened quickly. Menena’s larynx pumped up and down as she forced huge gulps of her liquid obsession down her throat.
The second pail clattered to the ground. Despite the afternoon heat, cold sweat coated the raven’s face. Her hands measured up the orb that stretched far beyond the size of any imaginable pregnancy from her body. It lifted the top of her breasts almost to the height of her shoulders and had them wobbling with every heavy breath like bags of water draped to the left and right over the round monstrosity.
“I’ll — urrrp! — never make — the third,” stammered Menena. Her head dangled and her gaze danced unsteadily. She licked her lips. Every single quiver and wave fueled a budding arousal that wrapped her thoughts in a layer of milky fog. Tiny drops of her bitter honey seeped out between her legs.
“Oh, I know your belly’s quite full now,” chuckled the mermaid. She pushed herself up and continued, “Yet you will drink it, understood? See, I’ve grown a bit tired of our Feeder’s taste. I want a taste of you, queen of evil. So I took some liberties. That potion you swallowed, it’s not like the times before. I sneaked in a bit of a juice that’ll let us have fun today.” She licked her lips. “You’ll make lots of milk, all for me. You’ll have thick and brimming udders within minutes, and I won’t let you go until I’ve squeezed them dry. Oh, you’ll beg me to. Oh yes.” Her breath came faster, and she pouted involuntarily as she imagined the sight of the milk source that Menena was about to become.
Anosthea slithered behind the trembling woman and grabbed her shoulders. Menena was pulled backwards and gasped when her back made contact with the slippery tail. Her spine groaned as it turned into a reclining arch across the thick pulsating trunk of scale-coated muscles. The raven’s breasts followed gravity and slipped higher until their soft shapes pancaked against her shoulders. Several fleshy inches thick and more than dish-sized in diameter, the heavy milk cakes moved under the frail tunic and quivered under Menena’s agitated breathing.
The mermaid spread her webbed fingers wide and grabbed Menena’s breasts, squeezing the malleable mammaries into balls the size of a small pumpkin. She licked her lips and ran her thumbs over the patches where small bumps in the cloth revealed the nipples.
“Mistress, your hands — oh please, so unchaste —”
“You, wailing about chastity? Now that’s a laugh! And that’s just the beginning. My, what little teats you have. Gonna fix that.” Anosthea changed her grip, squeezing the left breast with one hand now. The textile’s mesh widened, straining around the pale orb. Leaning in, Anosthea whispered an incantation towards the silver ring on her left hand. Its blue stone flashed as she ticked her right forefinger’s talon against it, and the glow spread along the pointy nail.
“Big and hard, wasn’t that how you always liked your things?” chuckled the mermaid. Menena convulsed as the curved claw pierced the cloth and dug deep into her left nipple. Not only did it burn like a red-hot needle, it carried with it a fiery itch that ate itself deeper into her breast.
“Aaagh! W—what — inside me!”
Anosthea pulled her nail back out. The glow was gone. She continued kneading the slowly flushing breast with both hands.
“Gonna spread it nice and deep all through your mam, y’know,” she chuckled.
“Y—yes, mistress,” gulped Menena. The itch filled her breast from the painfully hardening nipple all the way down to her ribs. She moaned. Her teat swelled suddenly, tenting its straining wrapper.
“Oh yes, coming along very nicely,” grinned the mermaid. She felt the flesh growing firmer and the skin straining tauter around the milk factory in her clutch. Her hands switched sides. Seconds later, her sharp nail penetrated Menena’s right nipple. “Got to keep you balanced, do I not?” she whispered, then exhaled with a delighted moan. Her fingers kneaded both of Menena’s heavy breasts, and the strawberry nipples poked into her palms.
“Oooh, nice and big. Oh, they can handle lots and lots of milk now. Just need to put some more into those jugs, they’re good for nothing while they’re still so empty. I want to guzzle from your plump teats, and you’re not yet full enough for that. Here now, dear. Taste a bit of motivation.” The mermaid’s eyes sparkled with greed as she forced Menena’s jaws open with one hand while she raised a small ornamented flask. A single clear drop crept from its opening and fell into the ring of pouted lips. Menena jerked, and the sudden motion sent ripples over her pumped-up belly. Moments later, her mouth and throat were ablaze. She gasped for air. Her hands fumbled desperately for the third pail.
The mermaid smirked, tucked away the potion and raised the heavy bucket with ease. Menena tried to righten herself, but her belly was already too heavy for that demanding maneuver. She pouted and smacked like a carp, grabbed the wooden bucket as soon as it was in her hands’ reach and tore it from her tormentor’s grip. The first gush of milk spattered all over her face, then she opened her mouth until she almost unhinged her jaw. She caught the whole volume of the thick stream and seemed to turn her throat into a drain pipe.
“Good girl. Open wide,” Anosthea grinned maliciously as her toy filled itself up further. Her fingers cupped for a moment the frantically pumping throat, then stroked down across the soft expanse of heavy shaking breasts and up along the side of the quivering belly-ball while she slithered up against it,.
“Oh yes. Yes, you’re almost done.” The young mer-witch’s arms encompassed the taut balloon of Menena’s midriff. She put her shell-shaped ear against the flushed three quarter sphere and listened with closed eyes to the groaning skin straining against her arms as the noises of stretching grew more urgent. Muffled guzzling and gargling propagated through the liquid core while the last pints of milk disappeared down Menena’s gaping maw until the final bucket was finished and the only sounds were Menena’s desperate panting and the frantic drumbeat of the woman’s heart deep in the bloated bag. Anosthea’s arms just barely fit around the quivering absurdity which she cradled like an overstuffed pillow.
“You’re not swollen enough. Just imagine what’ll happen once it starts to foam up into your udders,” she giggled as she rose by the side of her engorged prey, raised her arms and performed the arcane gestures of her craft. With her eyes narrowed to slices, Anosthea guided tiny sparkles of magic into the white sphere. Its ethereal glow, invisible to the ungifted, intensified with every added spark.
Menena didn’t listen any more. She lay with wide-open eyes, trembling slightly as she felt her body becoming aroused beyond anything she ever thought possible. Her hands stroked her belly, caressing the vast expanse like a giant breast, tracing its firm, taut surface. Her spine curved into an arch; squirming in place was all she could do with the heavy milk ball holding her down. Her skin itched, every square inch of her breasts was flushed and quivered from within, and the strange sensations spread rapidly. Her thighs glistened with her own copious juices.
“Yes — more, oh please, more, —” she moaned, throwing her head left and right.
“Are you enjoying this?” growled the witch, lowering herself until she was inches from Menena’s ecstatic grimace. “That won’t do.” Her hands grabbed the sides of Menena’s face. Anosthea closed her eyes, lowered her head and murmured a gargling incantation.
The woman in her clutch froze. The only things moving were Menena’s eyes, their gaze darting left and right, and her lower lip that started trembling as the haze of lust cleared from her mind. She recognized her pair of breasts, almost hanging into her face, and beyond them the white mountain of her belly as it blocked her sight of anything beyond the apple-sized navel.
“What — what have you done to me?” she stammered, terrified as the forced clarity brought reason back into her mind. Her hands held the quivering orb. She felt the straining skin, the ripples from her fearful panting criss-crossing the surface.
“Gods, what have you done? Mercy, oh please, I’m — I’m about to burst!”
The witch canted her head and smiled down on her.
“Oh, I don’t think so. You’ve got a bellyful of our Feeder’s very best choice milk, y’know? It’s what I conjure up inside her when a mermaid wants to become firm and plenteous. It’s what makes their bodies malleable. It’s the most potent magic milk the Goddess can give. Just for good measure, I stirred a healthy dollop of my growth cream into it. The one we slathered your breasts with when we first met. You do remember that, don’t you? I bet sometimes when you remember, you wake at night screaming.”
Menena’s face said it all without a word. Tears trickled from the corner of the woman’s once so cold eyes.
“Please,” she whispered. “Not this. Not like this.”
Anosthea leaned in. “You really need to learn to listen to other people. Too bad you won’t have another chance to do that. I said you’d get one warning, the last time.” She snapped her fingers. Blueish veins spread under Menena’s pale skin, growing outwards from the swollen navel. The milk soaked through the helpless woman’s body like a spreading infection, rendering her a puppet to the mermaid’s capriciousness.
“You’re mean and selfish and a pain in everyone’s ass. Maybe it’s time for a change. Maybe the world would be better off without this Mayor. Maybe what the world needs is another cow.”
Menena shook her head mutely.
“Defiance?” laughed the mermaid. “Oh, how cute. I’ll cure you of that, rest assured. And these —,” she pinched Menena’s left nipple, “they need to become much bigger. Who could possibly enjoy these sad pimples?”
A gesture. Menena felt the milk crawling through her flesh, replacing it with living liquid under her straining skin. Her breasts swelled, drawing on her bloated belly’s supply. Their flattened shape rounded out, turning from thick pancaking loafs to round pumpkins, and her areola gained a very defined circular edge as they changed into mounds on top of rising mounds. Her nipples’ coarse skin stretched smoother as they rivaled swollen ripe strawberries in size. They boiled from the inside, hardening over the milk that congealed into sensually overcharged flesh as it stuffed more volume into Menena’s already large breasts, inflating them into brimming udders. No amount of suppressive magic could’ve kept the raw sexual appetite at bay that at the same time gorged its way through Menena’s mind.
“Unnngh — must — stroke them,” she moaned.
“No, must squeeze them,” chuckled the mermaid. She spun her hand. The milk in Menena’s belly obeyed. The raven felt herself turning over, rising as an attachment of the enormous paunch that seemed to develop a mind of its own until she stood leaning forward with her breasts dangling against the side of the orb and her legs wide, giving room for the onset of her belly that held her upright like a giant pillow.
“Nice milk doll,” smiled Anosthea. “Let’s see if your legs can hold that weight.” She raised her fore and middle finger. Menena’s spine screamed as her back muscles forced her upright, but finally the taut sphere lost touch of the ground.
“That’s quite the pair of udders, cow,” chuckled the mermaid. She slithered towards the water, laid herself on her back and propped up her torso by her elbows. With her head just above the surf and the water caressing the sides of her own firm demi-globes, she faced Menena. Bringing her long fishtail about, she unrolled it across the sand like an octopus’ tentacle, right before the black-haired woman’s legs. The tiny scales under the lubricating layer of slime sparkled in all the colors of the rainbow.
“Now be a good girl and sit on it,” she commanded. “Time to squeeze this milk sponge of a dirtwalker into a pleasant shape. Still too much milk in your paunch and not enough in your breasts.”
Menena stumbled further into the surf and spread her legs wide, climbing over the tapering appendage. Anosthea flexed her tail and curved it upwards. The slippery muscle forced itself between Menena’s meaty thighs and slapped like a giant’s lubed cock against the swollen woman’s crotch, parting her sizable outer labia. Menena’s skin crawled with heat and arousal boiling over as the aphrodisiac slime that coated Anosthea’s lower half wandered through her flesh and mingled with her juices.
“Come closer, sponge,” commanded the mermaid. Menena inched forward, then felt the trunk between her legs rise and lift her to her toe tips. Her bloated weight forced her down the greased cone that parted her buttocks and spread her thighs further apart as she neared Anosthea’s flaring hips.
The mermaid’s splayed fingers dove into her engorged breasts and stopped her sliding. Anosthea’s tail rolled around Menena’s hips, and the raven gasped for air as the first loop of the slick, bole-thick muscle coiled across her belly and slathered the straining skin with its viscous coating, leaving a low burning sensation as it soaked into her flesh.
“Oh my, you’re so swollen, maybe my tail isn’t long enough to reach all the way around you?” mused Anosthea. A fearful shriek left Menena’s mouth as the next loop, less thick but still broader than a man’s thigh, burrowed into the crevice between her fat breasts and the orb of her paunch. The final loop, just about the diameter of a wrist but with semi-transparent, feathered fins along the sides, snaked through under her right arm and laid a trail of ooze across her collarbones before it finished the last coil around her throat.
Anosthea closed her eyes and felt Menena’s heartbeat racing through the veins under her tail around the woman’s neck. The tip of the mermaid’s long tongue parted her dark lips, drawing a sparkling layer of saliva on their pouting fullness. She raised her head that had sunk back a bit, and her brow furrowed as she eyed the woman who held still, paralyzed by fear.
“All of you, trapped in my clutch. Mmmh,” she breathed raunchily.
Menena’s scared panting ended as the living sling around her throat tightened up. The trapped woman clawed at the glistening surface, but her weak resistance had no chance against the chain mail of tiny scales.
“Oh, you’ll stay conscious long enough. Just making sure it doesn’t come out your mouth, dear. For that special taste, it really needs to filter through your flesh,” fluted the mermaid. She squirmed a bit, steadying herself, then curved her tail at her hips and effortlessly lifted the woman orb in her snare. Raising her hand, she flicked a sharp nail against the nearest fat nipple dangling over her face and was rewarded with an ineffectual twitch from her trapped prey.
“And now — time to take a milk shower.” The loop around Menena’s belly tightened up.
Menena felt the rising pressure, the crushing strength that held her trapped. The more the coil of Anosthea’s tail contracted, the more Menena’s hips and shoulders were twisted in opposite directions, wringing out her belly. The veins of milk under her skin swelled and showed like a land map now. She felt the milk burning through the vessels as it rushed away from the choking loop and occupied the adjacent parts of her body. The swelling and bloating reached her buttocks, then her thighs. The last remains of her tunic shrieked a high-pitched good-bye as her hips widened to make room for the slime-coated, flushed labia growing thicker and wider between her legs with every passing moment.
“Nnnngh—!” groaned the mermaid, clenching her teeth. The corkscrew of her tail constricted further. Menena’s belly had all but disappeared, overshadowed by the wide hips and the ass of a cart horse ballooning from them. In the other direction, her breasts were busy taking up the lion’s share of milk. Their taut skin bulged out between the slippery loops of Anosthea’s snake tail as they raced beyond the size of any natural female breast, then way past the size of bovine udders, determinedly approaching the biggest of prize pumpkins. The nipples struggled against the mammoth load of nurture amassing inside the flesh balloons. The deep strawberry red had dissolved with the desperate stretching of their coarse skin. They resembled a pair of ripe peaches now, crowning swollen domes of areola the size of a splayed hand. Inch by inch, the tail proceeded to force more enchanted milk into them by squeezing Menena’s paunch away and turning the woman’s shape into a twisted, impossible hourglass.
Anosthea raised her arms towards the orbs dangling down. Her hands caught some of the weighty gallons pulling and tearing at Menena’s ribcage. Smooth skin bulged out between her fingers as she tried to squeeze the tightly packed layers of glands and ducts overflowing with hoarded milk. The first thin sprays left chains of white droplets on her chest and face. She licked the corners of her mouth and closed her eyes.
“Mmmh. Oh yes, that’s a taste so very worth the effort.”
Her eyes snapped open again, sparkling feverishly. She canted her head.
“Let’s end this while there’s still a little life in your gaze,” Anosthea whispered huskily.
Menena waved desperately with splayed fingers towards the mermaid’s face, begging mutely for mercy. Her bones creaked and groaned. Her tendons screamed a silent storm of searing pain into her mind. The unnatural twist of her spine from her hips to her head meant she couldn’t help but see her own grotesque buttocks and her overstuffed mammaries at the same time. Her skin squeaked with milky sweat as the pressure inside searched for any which way of escape. Growing dark dots danced before her eyes, her heartbeat thundered in her ears and her lungs heaved fruitlessly against the living choker around her neck that tightened more with every passing agonizing moment.
Please, m—mercy, oh p—please, I c—can’t take it longer, I’m — about — I’m —
Anosthea placed her lips like a suction cup over the left nipple and drew the swollen peach into the boiling cave of her mouth. She suckled gently but for a moment, then she dug her sharp teeth into the succulent fruit. Her cheeks fell in as she built her suction to full strength. The nipple trembled and grew bigger, forced to swell by the sweet warm liquid streaming into it. Its ducts widened. The trickle grew into a torrent. Jets of milk burst from every tine pore. Horrific lust and sweetest pain exploded into Menena’s mind. For a few final moments, the woman’s thoughts became almost coherent again.
I’m dying. I’m bursting. I’m full of milk, I’m nothing but milk — not a single bone — she’s twisting me apart, she’s squeezing me dry … she’ll go all the way — no one around — to — save me — this time …
Her arm fell. Her world descended into a black whirl as her twisted body turned limp in the mermaid’s chokehold.
Menena felt cold smooth wood beneath her bare left sole and the clammy wrapper of soaked leather around her right foot. Ahead of her, a stairway shrouded in darkness led upwards. She frowned and shook her aching head, then proceeded to slowly climb the creaking stairs, and slowly did she recognize the place …
Chapter 25: Not so long ago
One year earlier, on a thundery late summer night in 1186 …
Menena trudged up the stairs to her bedroom, her face a frozen mask of anger as she rubbed her aching wrists. The shackles had left bloodied scuffs, and the formerly almost regal dress she dragged after herself was soaked through with water. Rain whipped against the windows, and bolts of lightning crackled across the sky. The furious elements were a perfect match to her simmering mood.
“The nerve of the Count, arresting me just because of some old wives’ tales!” She plucked at her torn sleeves. “And those stupid wardens, roughing me up and ruining my best dress! And what for? Just because she came to my shop, insulting me with her whorish curves! At least Sandy spoke up for me, else those dimwits might actually have thrown me into jail. Just imagine! And then they just send me off, no sorry, no apologies, like — like I’m not this rat hole’s mayor!”
The stocky, curvy woman of almost forty years slumped down on her bed and started to untie the complicated geometry of her bustier’s strings. She kept on muttering under her breath.
“So that blond floozy’s finally gone for good. What do I care? Well, except for that delicious, delicious milk of hers. Oh, she would’ve been a keeper once she was nothing but those gorgeous udders.”
The last loop of string gave way, and the tight bustier gaped open.
“Fffff—,” Menena exhaled in relief as her slight paunch was free to jut out. Moments later, with more of the ties gone, her breasts sagged down, their breathtaking opulence now completely overshadowing what little womanly roundness of her belly there was. Menena supported her ample bosom with one hand while the other reached for the bottle of her favorite lotion.
“Ahhhh,” she sighed as she dribbled a ropey line back and forth across the two pale peaks of her promontory. The cold liquid sent a shiver up and down her spine. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Mmmh. Oh, nothing like a gentle kneading and rubbing to make the world feel right again.”
Crack — boom.
“And you can shut it,” she snarled towards the window at the angry sky as she lay down on the big bed and cuddled her breasts in her arms, playing with the thick lube and spreading the glistening coating over her mammaries’ reddening, warming skin.
“Mmmh. Oh yes, my lovelies, drink up your lotion,” moaned Menena. Her breasts’ soft mountains hung to her left and right. Their silken skin shone like polished marble, and the pair of her nipples had stiffened under her expert fingertips. “Yes, momma likes. Oh, the pair of you, so nice and perfect. Thick and round, and so — oooh!”
She shivered. Heat spread through the massive mammaries, and her nipples tightened. The palm-sized areola beneath Menena's fingers felt firmer.
“Oh my. That is new. What are you two up to tonight?”
She prodded the faint domes around her dugs, and they responded with a slight pushing back.
“Mmmh. My goodness, you’re filling up!” She licked her lips. “The gods, finally. Is this the night?”
Her fingers pinched the reddish circles. The sensation took her breath away. Something deep in her chest felt fuller. A happy glow lighted her face.
“Huh, my darlings? Is this the night where you make your first milk for mama? Yes, go on!”
Her kneading motions became more demanding. She cupped as much of her pancaking boobs as her fingers could encompass and worked her fingertips against the deep structure of milk glands. The loafs bulged in her grip. Menena rubbed and squeezed happily, reveling in her own hands’ experience.
“Yes, oh yes! Like — goat's udders, evening full. Oh yes,” she moaned with closed eyes. “Baaah,” she bleated and chuckled.
Her fingers spread apart.
“Oh yes! Milk! I — I can feel it coming, I can feel the fullness! Yes! This is the night! Come on, come out! I want to feel the spray across my skin!”
She focused on her left breast, grabbing it as hard as she dared with both hands. Menena stroked and squeezed from the root to the nipple while she twisted her thighs and closed her eyes. Liquid moved through the firming flesh in her grasp. Her breath came quicker. The swollen nipple itched, begging for release. She pinched the sensitive bud and received a warm, thin coating of milk on her fingertips as a reward.
The heavy sound of some piece of furniture falling over downstairs made her freeze up instantly. Thin white lines of milk kept spraying from the nipple as she held her breath. The stairs leading to the bedroom’s antechamber creaked, yet there was not a single footstep mixed into the noises.
The door flew open and slammed against the wall. A tall, brawny woman, barely dressed in strips of leather slung around her impressive chest and hips, filled the frame. She pushed into the room and spread her arms wide, steadying herself with one hand’s splayed fingers on the door itself, the other on the wall. Long, wet hair with hints of blue under black hung over her shoulders. She straightened until her head almost ran into the ceiling. The nine foot giantess glowered with squinting eyes down on the half-naked woman on the bed.
Motion below the intruder’s belt lured Menena’s gaze from the angry face. Snakes spilled into the room, a wriggling knot of muscles covered in black glossy scales. Menena gasped in revulsion and shock, which didn’t diminish when she realized that it was just one single, long trunk springing from the barbarian giantess’ hips.
"So you are the one who hurt our precious Feeder?" hissed the towering apparition, its long tail writhing as it searched and found hold upon hold against the walls. Before Menena could utter a single word, the coil of muscles unleashed its pent-up impetus, and the human upper body of the mermaid surged forward. Her full elastic breasts slammed against Menena and launched the stunned woman off the bed. Before she hit the wall, a steely arm wrapped around Menena’s midriff and pulled her into the bulky creature’s tight embrace. A loop of tail whizzed past, slammed against the approaching wall, caught their momentum and rebounded the attacker with its prey back towards the door. A wet palm covered Menena’s lips and held her jaw shut, stifling her surprised, angry scream. She struggled with no hope of breaking free.
Held like a figurehead in front of the rhythmically swaying creature, Menena was carried down the stairs and out the door. Heavy rain whipped against her face as her captor slithered across the wet cobblestones of the empty streets, coiled over a low part of the town wall and picked up speed on the swampy fields. Behind them, the silhouette of the town disappeared quickly into the murky night.
Sand hit Menena on the shoulder, then in the face. She spat and coughed as she rolled onto her back with her hip angled sideways. The first blueish glow of morning appeared over the black ocean towards the eastern horizon.
“How dare you!” snarled Menena towards the creature that had lost almost all of its snake-like agility on the dry sand. The tall, muscular half-woman bent down and picked up a heavy copper trident, then put it nonchalantly over her shoulder. Her swaying motions translated into rhythmic bobbing of her almost udder-sized, weighty breasts that defied gravity. She was in prime shape, with her ribs and their toned muscles showing under her bright flawless skin. Framing a young face frozen into a cold frown, her long dark hair curled to just above her enviable waist. While the brawny mermaid wiggled her firm buttocks and cumbersomely inched her tail back into the water, she gave Menena a mute look of contempt before she nodded brusquely towards a shadow rising from surf.
Black as the receding night, the silhouette of a short-haired head and a girlish torso showed against the faintly lit sky. The shadow approached with a swaying gait that had nothing of a human walk. Menena’s eyes followed the shape of the surprisingly curvy waist and even though she already expected it, she jerked back in primal fear when she saw the several yards long serpentine tail that coiled and writhed out of the water.
The rain of night fled towards the west, and a blood red sun broke through the black lumpy clouds, bathing the beach in morning light. Menena blinked and raised her right hand to shield her eyes. Her gaze rose again from the creature’s glossy, silvery eel tail, its tiger stripes fading towards the front. A wide belt around the hip, almost indistinguishable in color from the being’s scales, hid all detail but a massive camel toe bulge and marked the change from slippery fish trunk to well-toned girl midriff. Menena spent only a passing glance at the firm handfuls of breasts, focusing instead on the gold chains that decorated the mermaid’s chest and upper arms. She was taken by surprise by the mop of green hair, its spiky strands slightly flattened against the head.
A few of the green strands hung over the girl’s eyes that wandered over Menena’s disheveled clothes and weighty, milk-heavy rack. The mermaid canted her head and turned her face to the bulky guardian who had slithered up to her.
“Are you sure she is the mean mistress?” Anosthea whispered to the guard. “She might just be some housekeeper. I mean, she doesn’t quite look like a haughty leader to me. Maybe she’s another poor thing forced to give milk to that evil bitch, the way she’s ready and dripping now.”
The young guard shrugged and narrowed her eyes as she tried to bring her water-born sight into focus. “Oh yes, she’s dripping all right. Then again, she was the only one in the house, and it was late at night. I say we just get it over with, Ano. One dirtwalker more or less —”
The mermaid witch ruffled her own hair and drew a face. “Yeah, but — well, I wouldn’t want to anger the Holy Feeder, y’know how irate she already gets if we pick fishermen instead of pirates. And this game here, that’s quite —”
The guard rolled her eyes. “Oh great. Anosthea, I’m not going back to pick another one. We got lucky with last night’s hard rain, and I’ll have tail rash for days with all that sand and swamp and grass. Maybe you should’ve asked the Feeder for details.”
“What? No! No, it’s supposed to be a surprise.”
She turned back to Menena and bowed with a hint of curtsy thrown in.
“Greetings, woman.”
“Greetings, girl — fish — snake — thing?” snarled Menena.
“My name is Anosthea. Remember it.”
“Oh, I will,” Menena replied, raising her forefinger to the mermaid who crossed her arms over her chest. “Anosthea, I don’t know why you brought me here. I never had dealings with your kind! Had someone told me yesterday, I wouldn’t even have believed your kind exists!”
Anosthea shrugged. “Yes, I get that a lot. Oh well, it’s simple, really. Just tell me your name.”
Menena frowned and shook her head. “My name? That’s it? — Aiiieee!”
She shrieked and jerked away in surprise as Anosthea suddenly lowered herself to the kneeling woman and raised a hand, only to gently stroke Menena’s cheek with the back of her fingers.
“Shhh. Calm down, woman.” She grabbed Menena’s shoulders and held her face to face at arm’s length. “Your. Name.”
The proud woman glared back at the young mermaid. “Menena. Mayor Menena. Remember it.” She eyed the valuable gold chains again and gulped as greed choked her throat. “Just in case you’re interested in — in anything from land, I’m the one to talk to.”
Anosthea’s left cheek twitched. Her voice became syrupy as she cooed, “Are you now? The infamous Menena. My, my.” She let go, whirled around and disappeared into the surf.
“Hey! Wait!” Menena’s voice found its haughtiness again. “Whatever you’ve heard about me, it’s all lies! I’m sure we can arrange —” Menena rose, only to feel the strong hand of a second mermaid guard on her shoulder. She glanced at the surprisingly slender fingers. The web between them reached only to the first joints. They would’ve easily have passed for a girl’s, were it not for the fingernails that were long, pointy and slightly curved like talons, and felt just as sharp against Menena’s skin.
“You. Wait. Now,” gargled the woman, towering almost a head taller than her and glaring down angrily at the raven. Everything from her fair features to her sporty build and the pale skin contrasting the black tail hinted at the two guards being sisters.
“Yes, yes. Whatever you say,” Menena replied after a moment of exchanging glances. She averted her eyes, pulled her clothes tighter and buttoned up her half-exposed chest again. This was going about as well as the interrogation hours ago at the hands of the Count, she feared.
Minutes later, a triangular wave approached the beach again. Anosthea rose from the waters, carrying a circular shell almost twenty inches across. She sat down on the beach opposite of Menena, pulled part of her tail up like a pair of thighs and opened the brown rock-like container she had placed between them.
Menena pinched her eyes. The inside of the unsightly thing was coated with pearly nacre and sparkled blindingly in the colors of the rainbow. Lumps of meat and seaweed were arranged in a circle.
“A gift of food, for a start.”
Menena’s eyes narrowed as suspicion crept into her voice. “Thank you, but I don’t think I should accept it.”
“Should you not?” Anosthea raised her thin eyebrows. “You know, some gift-givers might take that kind of rejection for an insult.”
“Oh, none meant, your — fish-ness? I sure hope you don’t —”
Anosthea offered the shell again. “Maybe just a bite then? It’s delicious.”
Menena turned her head slightly away and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not all that much of a raw fish eater, thanks.”
The mermaid sighed. “You are never satisfied, are you? It’s an acquired taste, these fishes. Worthy of a queen, my dear. And look how small these pieces are. You’ll barely feel them going down your throat. Here, just look at that.” She flicked her finger against the tiny lump, and it disappeared into a flash of sparks.
“Neat trick. Where has it gone?” frowned Menena.
“To lead the way for the others,” grinned the young witch.
Flick, flick, flick. The flat dish was empty.
“No, seriously. Where has it — urrp — gone?” burped Menena. Her eyes grew big.
“Into my stomach?” She fumbled frantically over her belly. “You dared put it into my stomach?”
“Well, you would’ve put up a struggle otherwise,” smirked Anosthea as the woman in front of her jumped to her feet and spun to flee.
“Nah, ah, ah,” continued the mermaid, shaking one webbed forefinger. The guardians’ tridents connected with a solid metal clang right before Menena’s chest. Their hands shoved her back towards the surf.
“What do you want?” Menena screamed angrily.
“You insulted our feeder. You wronged her. She might be forgiving, but I am not,” Anosthea declared as she rose on her tail.
“I don’t even know what a feeder is!” hissed Menena. “I told you, I never had dealings with —” She fell silent. Her eyes followed the mesmerizing pendulum of a big silver medallion dangling from Anosthea’s raised hand. The blue stone was the size of a very large egg, but she recognized the overall shape and the iridescent color.
“Barbara,” Menena whispered with dry lips.
“The Holy Feeder you treated so unkindly,” Anosthea replied with a nod.
Menena clenched her fists. “Holy! She was a witch! A mean, man-stealing witch! She took my only love, and she deserved everything she got out of her dabbling with magic!”
The young mermaid with the green hair snaked closer. “A witch? You stupid dirtwalker! That sweet girl is no witch! Never was, never will be. You want a witch? How about me?”
She leaned on Menena, forcing the shopkeeper to her knees as the fish tail’s heavy, slippery, muscular weight bore down on the thighs of trembling woman. Faint heat spread through Menena’s legs, yet the sensation went unnoticed as she winced away from the girl yelling into her face, “You green-eyed harpy, you almost ruined everything I worked for! Welcoming the new Feeder was to be a gentle, moving ceremony with lots of touching and stroking and licking, but nooo, you just had to turn poor Barbara into a beached whale with your weeds and your forced milking! Damn you, you made me forgo our Feeder’s first milk, and that is something I won’t forgive!”
She hollered on, “And you had the height of cheek to steal the precious juices from our Feeder’s breasts! Fattening yourself with it!” Anosthea’s fingers grabbed and squeezed the plump breast before her. Menena shrieked, more from surprise than pain. Anosthea let go and sniffed her own fingertips. “Yerch! You reek of your udder ointment, dirtwalker! Oh, after all these years of keeping your skin luscious and soft, I think you’re ready for something much more potent, eh?” Anosthea raised a small vial. “Did you know there are plants in my world that make your Milkmaid’s Friend look like a salad? This here will help broaden your horizon quite a bit.” She smiled mischievously as she pulled out the cork. “Guards!”
Menena jumped back and slapped her hands over her mouth. “Mmmmft not gonna drink that!” rang her muffled scream. “You stay aw—”
The mermaid cocked an eyebrow. “You know, it’s not all about you,” she scoffed, then downed the vial’s content herself. She shivered and shook, drew a face and squeezed her arms against her flanks. “Ugh! Yuck! The gods, that stuff’s vile.” Her hands grabbed the golden chains dangling from her neck and threw them back over her shoulders, baring her chest. “Ooh! Mmh. Oh yes, it begins. Nnnh!” Her fingertips rubbed over her nipples. “Oh my, that’s interesting. Haahhn! So — sensitive. Itching. Oh yes. Yes! Only a few moments now, my sisters. Come and get your share.” She extended her arms invitingly.
The pair of guardian mermaids slithered closer, lowered themselves and embraced Anosthea with one arm each, framing her girlish body and the surprisingly large hips left and right.
“Yes — now — Mmmmgh!”
Anosthea’s firm, average hemispheres quivered and stretched, swelling bigger in moments. As their mass grew, they sagged visibly. The guards each caught one with a cupped hand. Anosthea moaned louder. Another jerk and writhe, and to her aides’ gentle kneading, the three-quarter spheres kept on swelling into full, soft, dangling pears. Her nipples became deep red succulent strawberries and pointed upwards as their foundations grew taut with multiplying milk.
“So full! Must spend — hurry! Yes — drink — drink now!” she moaned and grabbed the back of the guards’ heads, pulling them in. The guardians raised the ripe melons and suckled the swollen teats. Anosthea swayed with closed eyes. Her tail twisted and coiled aimlessly. Moments later, the heavy, muscular trunks of her handlers joined in. More snake-like than fishtails, they braided themselves around Anosthea’s and turned their lower bodies into a slippery mass of writhing tentacles that held the triptych of moaning women upright.
Menena stared wide-eyed. She should be running, she told herself. Yet she couldn’t tear her gaze from those three bodies squirming, their arms and tails locked in carnal frenzy as greedily pouting lips teased mouthfuls of milk from throbbing nipples. The mature raven ate up every minuscule variation of the delirious expression on the young witch’s lust-crazed, sweaty face and every single thrust of her chest. Seeing Anosthea’s now enormously swollen breasts as they throbbed and force-fed gushes of milk into the overwhelmed mouths of the guardians that made their cheeks bulge and their lips and chins drip, she found her own fingers moving towards the entrance of her rapidly moistening cave.
“The gods, oh the gods,” stammered Anosthea. Her head dangled devoid of strength. She hung limply between the two guards with her arms over their shoulders. The bloated bags on her chest had emptied their ample servings into the insatiable mouths of the hulking mermaids and stood firm and youthful again with only her hard swollen nipples testifying to the amazing display.
She moistened her lips. A thick clear stream of her overflowing juices seeped out from underneath her wide belt, showing plain as day against the thin glossy layer coating her fish tail. “So good. Oh so good. Giving milk … oh, if I had known this earlier, I would’ve —”
“Can I go now?” Menena’s voice dripped as thick with envy as Anosthea’s crotch with juices and grated through Anosthea’s afterglow. The raven straightened her clothes and cursed inwardly. She had been that close. The itching between her legs did nothing to mellow her. She hissed on, “Have you humiliated me enough by showing that anybody in the world can on a whim have more pleasure and more breast than me?”
Anosthea straightened. Her hand scooped up a dollop of the liquid lust crawling down her fish tail’s front. “Look at that. Look how generous I’ve been. We call this love juice. It heightens the pleasure. And it has many uses. You feel like you’ve been left out? Maybe feel like sampling a bit of mermaid love?” She moved her fingers and watched the thick ropey threads of lube moving between them.
Menena’s brow curled in revulsion. “What? You think I’d want to taste your — your fish drippings? You’re sick!”
“Well, if your mouth’s lips don’t want a taste —”
The mermaid moved like a snake. Before Menena had a chance to react, Anosthea’s cupped hand squeezed the gob of slime through the cloth covering her crotch. Menena fended off the kneading fingers and staggered back. She held her groin, then her hands jerked away. The raven stared at her glistening palms.
“You sick — fish snake thing! You’re disgusting! You’re —”
Her eyes bugged, and her eyebrows rose. “Ooooh — oh the gods,” she stammered, hunched and sagged to her knees. Her tongue slowly moistened her lips. A shudder ran through her body. She crammed half her fist into her mouth and bit down on her forefinger’s knuckle. Her belly convulsed in ecstasy.
“—Surprisingly arousing?” Anosthea finished Menena’s interrupted yell with a smile. She crossed her arms over her chest, raised her glazed hand and licked her own tangy, salty taste from her fingers. “Oh yes. Even a simple brush against the thin coat on our scales is enough for you dirtwalkers to get all wet or cock-hard, but a handful of the inner juices against your dried-up flaps? Oh, you’ll soon die laughing, my dear.”
“You wouldn’t! Names of the gods, you will not dare lay a finger on me! Don’t you know who I am?” Menena slowly rose again. Her lubricated crotch blazed with unfulfilled arousal, and it only heightened her defiance. Her rage fought back the lust radiating from her soaked, dripping snatch.
Anosthea shrugged with her arms akimbo. “Oh, I know who you are. You’re the one who almost sent our precious Feeder to an early grave! You’re the one who —”
“Yap yap yap! Quiet! I’m talking now, and you’ll listen to me!” Menena cut her off. Fists raised in anger, she took a determined step towards the young mermaid, and Anosthea backed away involuntarily, her face now a mask of confusion as she stared at the red-faced woman.
“You — how — gods, I can smell your boiling clam from here, how can you even walk or talk?!”
Menena’s voice echoed over the beach as she hollered herself into rage. “What are you going on and on about? Oh yes, I was angry! But did I treat her that badly? You think I should have kept her under my roof after she stole my David? You think I should’ve lain awake and listened to them fornicating in my own house?” The raven punctuated each of her sentences with a knuckle shove against Anosthea’s shoulder. The two guardian mermaids watched in mute surprise as the curvy woman sent their leader into retreat, hobbling and stumbling awkwardly on her tail towards the surf.
Menena went on, “Maybe it’s the mermaids’ way to hand around their husbands or what have you, but I’d like to think I’ve been very generous! I even offered her care and work when she became all milk-bloated! Could’ve had her burned, y’know? Oh, if someone has been wronged, it surely wasn’t that blond floozy, but me!”
The young mer-witch felt her bile starting to stir as Menena’s words sank in. Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head and rose higher on her tail, holding her own and stopping Menena’s advance. “You know nothing of the pain and fear you forced upon her! Will I ever teach you now! Guards! Hold her down!” She fumbled through the contents of her belt. Glass vials and tiny earthen pots jingled faintly. The noises of her search drowned in Menena’s angry shrieks as a well-placed slap of tail knocked the woman’s feet out from under her and she went down in the guardians’ grip, kicking up sand as she struggled in vain. Left and right, their heavy tails slammed on her spread-eagled arms and held her put.
“Now you’re feeling strong, huh?” blustered the raven. “Three against one! You’re — Mmmff! Gmmm!”
“Ouch! She bit me!” The guard jerked back and shook her hand.
“Yerch! You taste as fishy as you look, you — mmmf!” This time, the strong webbed fingers held her jaw well shut. Menena panted through flaring nostrils, and her narrowed eyes flashed angrily.
Anosthea bent over the immobilized woman. “You will be silent, you self-righteous shrew! How cold and hardened must you be!”
Her claws tore at Menena’s chest and shredded the clothes without as much as breaking the raven’s flawless skin. When Anosthea finally retreated, Menena’s heavy bags sagged left and right, pancaking slightly as their unrestrained volume settled into its gravity-dictated shape. Goosebumps spread over the massive mammaries, and the nipples hardened in the fresh morning air. The mermaid raised her eyebrows with reluctant appreciation. Her fingertips circled one of the rough dugs.
“Maybe not so hardened,” admitted Anosthea. The ample flesh, quivering to Menena’s fruitless struggle, filled her cupped hand. “And not cold through and through.” She kneaded it roughly, and the raven groaned in pain, shutting her eyes. “Still, I think they could use even more heat, eh, sisters?” The guards grinned and nodded mutely.
“You might’ve been wondering about that little feeding show, if you hadn’t been busy going to town on yourself, eh?” smirked Anosthea, backing away into the surf and fishing for something under the surface. “You see, playing with magic has its little inconveniences. My dear sisters or even me, we might become affected by this here.” She straightened and raised a huge, coral-encrusted amphora. “With their bellies full of my enchanted milk, for a while they’ll be immune to this nice lotion here.” Anosthea leaned in and angled her head. “I never tried it on a genuine dirtwalker before, and I wonder what it’ll make of you. Let’s lather you up and find out. Oh, you know nothing of breast size, my dear,” she chuckled, wrestling with the seal. “So let’s see how well your chest rub prevents stretch marks!”
The plug came free with dull popping noise.
“Cup your hands,” the witch instructed her companions. She raised the amphora and gave each a big dollop. “And now show her a mermaid’s dexterity.”
“Don’t you dare!” hissed Menena. “You’ll let me go this instant!” She wiggled and pulled, twisting her shoulders in vain against the weight on her arms.
“Will we now,” Anosthea replied. “And why, pray tell, should we listen to you?”
“Because that’s what they all do, eventually,” snarled the immobilized woman.
“People listen to your bile-spewing? Honestly?”
“Yes. You may not like me much —”
“Now there’s an understatement,” Anosthea exhaled under her breath.
“—But my advice is good. So you’ll listen now, you shell-eared thing!”
“I will?” The sudden, questioning undertone in Anosthea’s voice was palpable.
Chapter 26: Getting Under the Skin
“—So it’s really in your own best interest,” Menena finished her monologue.
Anosthea raised her eyebrows and replied glassy-eyed, “Oh my. Of course. You couldn’t have acted differently. It makes so much sense! How could I not see that! Sisters, how wrong have we been! We need to make amends, instantly!”
“And how,” declared Menena.
The mermaid snapped her fingers and pointed at her. “Look at this woman here; you need to regale her with our finest treatment now!”
The two guardians stared disbelievingly at their leader, and finally the one to Menena’s left gulped and muttered, “Ano, really, you —”
The young witch raised a webbed finger. “Don’t you doubt me! Use the oil like I told you to!”
“But —”
“Ah?!”
“Oh all right.”
The first guardian shrugged and raised her cupped hands, then dribbled a long rope of lube across Menena’s left breast. At the touch of the viscous oil, Menena drew a deep breath and bit her lower lip. The liquid felt amazing, slightly warm and incredibly relaxing. A fat drop hit her nipple. She groaned quietly as the thimble crinkled and hardened, nurturing itself on the strange ooze. Moments later, the slender fingers of the mermaid grabbed Menena’s huge breast and kneaded it, slipping back and forth across her delicate skin and spreading the glistening oil.
“Oh,” she moaned delightedly as her body’s tension disappeared and she spread herself out on the beach. “Yes, that’s more like it. Didn’t I know it? They all come around to my charms.” Her body opened itself to the caresses while at the back of her mind a tiny overheard voice screamed, “Are you crazy? Don’t let them!”
Twenty Fingertips massaged her plenteous breasts left and right now, more gently and skillfully than she could remember being touched before. They teased her nipples to attention and made her flesh all supple and warm. Each long stroke heightened her arousal. She watched the deft hands covering every square inch of her massive mammaries, the fingertips circling her dugs, pinching them every now and then, and her breath raced as delicious fire filled her crotch.
“Yes, you are good girls,” she moaned. “Grab them harder!” Menena arched her back and thrust her gallon of chest into the mermaids’ cupped hands.
“Mmmmmggghhh—!” she groaned only moments later and closed her eyes tightly after one of the mermaid’s talons had split her breasts’ skin. “You clumsy oaf!” chided the raven.
“Shut it!” hissed the mermaid. “My nails are sharp, and if you don’t stop wiggling like a horny eel, don’t complain if they cut you!” She hesitated and leaned in, rubbing over the reddened skin with two thumbs, then shoved her sister. “Look at this! Isn’t it amazing?” She grabbed another handful of Menena’s left breast, dug her claws once again into the soft mound and pulled. Skin and flesh parted inch-deep at the sharp edges of her talons, and Menena reared in the unyielding grip. Her tortured holler echoed across the beach. She sagged down as the burning pain subsided. Instead of streams of blood, the deep gashes left by the sharp talons were dry and their insides already coated with white skin, looking like wrinkles. As they stretched and smoothed, Menena’s breast pancaked further since more wrapping skin had been violently added to its circumference.
“See, Ano? She doesn’t bleed! It heals instantly and turns into more skin.” A malevolent smile spread the guardian’s puffy lips, and her grey eyes sparkled.
“Gods! D—don’t do that again,” panted Menena. “It’s been fun so far, but this is far too rough for my liking! Right, I consider your apologies adequate now. Get off me and let me go.” She wiggled fruitlessly under the two heavy tails on her arms. “Come now, release me, I order you!”
“Do you now? Oh, I don’t think so,” Anosthea replied. “Enough of this silly act.”
“Act?! You insolent fish! You — ” Menena’s eyes went huge as first cracks of realization showed in her shield of arrogance. “You — you mocked me! You never listened! You lying water snake!”
“My, my. Someone’s been quite full of herself, was she not? I did listen, and I did not like one bit of what I heard.” The mermaid put her hands together, wringing her fingers. “Oh dear, how could any creature big or small ever disobey the sweet tongue of she-who-must-be-obeyed.” Anosthea’s voice snapped from mocking nasality to hissing snake. “Haughty much, you bitch? Well, here’s a treatment worthy of a queen, and it might bleed the arrogance from you, too. See, that’s part of the feeder’s secret: whenever she tears open from growing too fast, her skin closes immediately. You will need every single inch of that pale hull for all the milk you’ll soon be trying to hoard. Let’s be merciful, sisters. Feel free to add as much skin to those poor little bags as you like.”
“No! No, you wouldn’t — you — no, mercy —” stammered Menena, her eyes darting from one of her handlers to the other.
The two mermaid guards grinned devilishly at each other, then they spun and pounced, burying Menena under their combined weight. A heavy tail across her hips pressed her buttocks into the sand. Hands anchored her shoulders to the beach. The guardians raised their claws high and bent their fingers like hooks. Moments later, Menena yelled at the top of her lungs as her world turned into nothing but darkness and searing pain that consumed her chest. Only her twitching and floundering legs showed under the mermaid’s bulky bodies and the knot of their coiling tails.
Turning her back, Anosthea put a finger in her ear and twisted it. “Gods, I could do without her awful screeching,” she growled.
The late morning sun filtered blood red through Menena’s closed eyelids. Dried tears had left crusts in the corners of her eyes. They itched as she blinked the veils away and stared into the blue sky. She lay on her back. Her body felt mangled, and her arms too heavy to lift. Rhythmic noises flooded her ears. She needed a few seconds to recognize them for rolling waves.
“Where — am I?” she stammered, her throat dry and aching from her howls of agony. Her strength returned slowly. Her fingertips traced her flanks, then her belly. The pain she now clearly remembered filling her had left but for a slow odd throbbing in her breasts. She touched her bosom and felt smooth dry skin, crowned by nipples that stung with harder, more engorged excitation than ever. The itching of half-dried moisture between her thighs and the palpable womb sensation of very thorough carnal relief seeped into her mind through the frayed edges of her consciousness.
Menena propped herself up on her elbows and froze at the sight of her mermaid tormentors as they lay side by side on their bellies in the surf and watched her with mean smiles on their angelic faces, their angled arms framing the bulges of their breasts’ slightly flattened overabundance.
“Awake?” bubbled one.
“Finally?” added the other.
“We’re sorry, but our witch sister said we can’t play with you anymore,” the first one continued with a sing-song voice, goose-stepping her fore and middle finger over the sand in front of her mammaries’ balcony.
“Yes,” chuckled the other again, her one hand’s fingertips touching her chin, “so sad. The things she plays with, most of the time they end up in pieces.”
“Not like us,” giggled the first. “We play a little rough, but our toys, they just become a bit … stretched.”
They both giggled now. The first one reached over to her companion, caught her nipple with three fingers and pulled at the heavy, taut breast. Then she turned her gaze back to Menena, winked and nodded. The raven’s eyes grew big as she examined her bosom in greater detail. “Greater” was an all too fitting word. Her fingertips felt tiny on her distended skin. Cupping her nipples, her hands just barely covered her areola. Worst of all, in pillows easily four times their previous size was no more than half of the original stuffing. Menena’s fingers grabbed silken skin that wrinkled emptily in her groping hands, its texture lacking all of the formerly smooth padding with its semi-firm, luscious allure.
“No! Noooo! What — what have you done? I’m — I’m just old woman’s tits! I’m flat and saggy! You fiends!” she screeched and struggled into a seating posture. Her nipples slipped down to almost her knees as the two tit blankets slapped on her thighs.
“Well, you begged so nicely to be sucked, how could we have refused? Oh, your dugs’ taste is all milk and honey, evil woman,” chuckled the mermaid to her right. “And your volume, oh my! Almost that of my sister here, and she’s a strong milker if I ever drank one.”
“What?! I — No …”
She blinked. Memories came flooding back. She lay with her arms trapped under their tails’ weight, and their claws were ready to strike. The world became pain, and yet, after the first darkness receded, those cruel hands that only moments before had torn and ripped into her skin now caressed the vast new expanses of her oiled and breathtakingly sensitive breasts, lifting them, stroking them, kneading them. Contractions of desire raced up and down her steaming snatch. Her nipples begged to explode under pinches and twists. Her voice sounded strange in her ears as she heard her own mouth vocalize the urges that her body dictated. Menena remembered pouted lips suckling on her breasts, hands wrapped around her milk bags, pulling them into bizarre elongated shapes until they fit into the mermaids’ webbed grip. Their strong fingers kept kneading and wringing milk from her stretched mammaries. She lay writhing in lust while emptying all of herself between those greedy sensuous lips, twitching delightedly to every playful bite into her coarse, hard teats. Another rapidly approaching blackness ended her vivid recall.
Menena blinked again. Her crotch itched with rekindled desire from the memory alone.
“No — no, that can’t be,” she whispered almost to herself. “I would never beg to be —”
“Sure seemed like a first timer to me,” grinned the mermaid to her left. “Oh, you were good. So ample a serving, and so juicy and squirty not only from your breasts. Of course you begged to be finger-stuffed too, but there are limits to what a self-respecting ’maid is willing to dip into, evil woman, even if it’s a condemned’s last wish.”
“The gods —,” whispered Menena, her eyes fixated at those razor-sharp talons at the ends of the mermaids’ fingers.
Oooh, that delicious pain! Just think of being impaled on these claws, and think of their tongues, quietly hissed a hoarse voice in her head.
“No! No, shut up! Evil, devil whisperer!” hollered Menena, pressing her palms against her temples. The mermaids eyed, then shrugged at each other.
“Still struggling with your fate, I gather?” Anosthea’s bright voice bubbled with a little leftover gill water as she rose from the surf and once again transitioned from her ocean breath to the itching inconvenience of air. She carried a nasty smile on her face and another arm-long amphora partially overgrown with shells and corals over her shoulder, holding the slender container in place with her one arm raised and her fingers hooked into one of the two rings near the funnel-shaped spout.
Setting it down onto the sand, she continued, “Well, it’s time for the verdict.” She raised her other hand and opened her fist. Silver jingled as the blue medallion dropped and swung from the loop of its chain around her middle finger.
“No, please —” begged the raven-haired woman. Anosthea slithered closer and lowered herself until their heads were ear-to-ear, facing over each other’s shoulder. Menena stared straight ahead, frozen in place.
“You could’ve run, a hundred times over,” whispered the mermaid. “You could’ve run, and we would not have been able to keep up on dry ground. You knew that all along.”
“Hhh—,” whimpered Menena.
“Even now, you could jump up, push me over and make for the cliff.” Anosthea’s breath tickled across the raised hairs on the back of Menena’s neck. The girl shifted a little closer. Her voice was a mere waft now. “Evil woman, you know you won’t walk away from this. You know this is your end. Still you won’t run.”
“I can’t,” was Menena’s barely audible answer.
The mermaid’s cool lips touched Menena’s earlobe. “You can’t? You won’t. I know your head says you should. Yet there’s something else saying you should not. What is it?”
Menena shuddered as Anosthea’s fingertips touched her meaty thighs and wandered higher across her hip. The wet thumb found the low-hanging left nipple of her stretched, emptied bag, and then the forefinger closed in on the well-padded mons through the jet-black curls.
“It’s there, isn’t it? Between your legs. It’s longing for it. All the dirty things you did, it knows that you deserve a punishment. That you’ll lie down and take it, to the end.” Her tongue snaked across the rim of Menena’s ear. “And this is the end. I will break you. So I’m telling you now: Lie — down.”
Menena’s arms moved by themselves. Moments later, she lay on her back, her eyes avoiding the towering girl creature’s triumphant stare.
“Come, sisters. Her sorry breasts need one last feeding,” commanded the young witch. The guardians snaked to her side. They each grabbed one of Menena’s empty tit hoses just beneath the wrinkled areola and held her hardened nipples up. The amphora’s cork popped free. Anosthea lowered the spout. The first guard squeezed the teat bulging from her grip into the opening.
The cold oil made contact, and Menena shrieked. Her eyes widened in surprise as the sensation soaked into her nipples. The amphora’s content slowly filtered through her dug and into her dried-up breasts. Beneath the guardian’s grip, her mammary swelled as the liquid filled the flat bag and stretched the ducts and glands. Her breast drank from the amphora and became fatter pint after pint. The mermaid changed her grip and milked the empty udder in reverse, stroking the quickly warming potion away from the teat and deep into the tissue of the steadily bulging breast.
“Nice,” chuckled the witch. “The other now.” She nodded to the first guard, “And you, keep kneading.”
Chapter 27: Sleight of Hand
“Mmm—ggnnn!” Menena still squirmed but it was no longer a struggle against the muscular tails holding her arms down. Her motions were slinky and aroused. She saw the hate and nastiness in her captors’ faces, yet couldn’t fight the boiling horniness in her blood that grew stronger the more the mermaids leaned on her and the more their slippery tail’s skin rubbed against her. Her labia were glazed from the inside already, and her legs opened themselves invitingly, hiking up her badly torn dress and baring her itching hole.
Anosthea chuckled. “Ooh, quite a feisty one, eh? Not one for taking it slow? If you’re so eager, I do have a very intimate gift for you. You like precious things, and you like to keep them close, don’t you? Well, it won’t get any closer than this.” She raised the medallion and breathed a kiss on the sparkling silver. The egg-sized blue stone detached as the thin claws of the metal mounting came alive and let go. Moments later, she rubbed the smooth orb back and forth over Menena’s slowly widening vulva. The trapped woman moaned in the throes of fierce desire that threatened to overtake her completely.
“Really now?” grinned the mermaid. “Huh, still seems to be a bit too much, even for the loose bitch who stretched herself on our David’s mighty tool. Wouldn’t want to split you open so soon. Let’s grow you to your greed’s size first.”
She raised the amphora. The clear liquid crept like honey from the slim spout and laid a glistening track across Menena’s wrinkly labia. The raven-haired woman arched her back as the essence of lust soaked into her flesh. Moments later, any wrinkle there had ever been around her fuck hole was gone as the outer lips plumped and bloated into pink sausages, stretching and bulging under Anosthea’s deftly rubbing fingers. Menena felt the rapid growth between her legs and became almost delirious from every new height of desire that the multiplying cubic inches of her overexcited sex fed to her body. Her breathing accelerated. Forming words was no longer an option; that part of her brain had long since drowned in the ocean of lust that squeezed into her mind through every nerve.
“Yes, keep your legs nicely apart, you’ll need the room,” giggled the witch, kneading a rich second helping of the transforming ooze into the thirsty crotch. Her fingers plucked the glistening petals apart and traced along the stretching smooth pink between the reddening clit bulging from its hood, the wrinkly inner labia and the widening cave. She rubbed through the folds at the roof, trapping her prey’s engorging clit between her fingers and pushing her fingertips into its deep roots that spread beneath the outer lips. The flushed flesh quivered in her hand as it sucked up the liquid and distended like a sponge. Soon, Menena’s vulva had grown huge and turned red all over with arousal. Its entrance, swollen to thrice its size, looked like a gaping palm-sized sphincter framed by wetly glistening black curls on a melon of flesh forcing her meaty thighs apart.
“Now that’s what I call an abyss,” grinned Anosthea. “So who’s a good muff hungry for a precious jewel? My goodness, it’s pouting like a mouth!” Gem firmly in hand, the mermaid circled the smooth wet rim with her knuckles before she slowly pushed her fist into the sopping blackness behind the easily yielding flesh ring. The bloated lips parted around Anosthea’s hand, which seemed ridiculously tiny by comparison.
Menena shuddered and trembled as muscles she never knew she had flexed inside her lower belly. The wandering contractions of her crotch became the swallowing motions of a second throat gobbling up eagerly what was stuffed into her watering love mouth. She closed her eyes, giving herself up to the new sensations that surpassed even the delights of being impaled by David’s hunky junk.
“My, you’re boiling!” exclaimed the mermaid kneeling between her spread legs. The ribbed walls of Menena’s soaked tunnel trembled against the girl’s conquering fist. The swollen dripstone cave milked and flexed hungrily. It claimed the hand beyond the wrist and slowly slurped the arm in further. Menena felt an extended finger searching her vagina’s deep end for the tight opening into the inner sanctum. Another never-before felt twitch went through her womb. The curious digit suddenly found a trembling, gaping hole where it expected a tight ring.
The mermaid placed the blue stone against it and the enchanted gem was sucked from her hand. The stretchy gate swallowed the magical power source and then contracted into a smooth seal before her retreating. Menena’s horny wails echoed from the cliffs. Her flaps stuck lightly to the skinny arm slipping out that left her womb with an overwhelming sense of emptiness between her legs.
“Any moment now,” smirked the mermaid, pulling her glazed hand from the squelching gap. “The gem’s soul was supposed to guard our Feeder, and I think it remembers well what you did to the girl it was created to protect. I wonder what it’ll do to you in return …”
Anosthea narrowed her eyes to bring forth her secondary vision. “Well, that was quick,” she chuckled as her other sight revealed how the scattered floating sparkles of magic were drawn to Menena’s body like iron filings to a powerful magnet.
Menena moaned and closed her eyes, teetering on the brink of a breath-robbing climax. She couldn’t fight the next rush of arousal pumping into her body. Her mind soared through clouds of sparkles, only to begin a plunge that seemed to drag her backwards through the ground. She fell down a black well. The sky above her became a shrinking circle as blackness streamed in from the corners of her vision. Moments later, all light was gone.
“Why, hello!” greeted an unfamiliar voice. Menena’s eyes snapped open. The world was still dark, yet something behind her in that barren wasteland cast a bright light. She sat up. Sand moved under her naked buttocks. She remembered nothing. Her name, yes. How she got here, no.
“Where — am I?” Wetness clung to her inner thighs, not the wetness of fear but the copious secretions of a lust she couldn’t hold back. Thinking was hard with the arousal blazing between her legs and scorching her mind.
“Oh, you’re still at the beach, and I’m feeding you all the magic I can gather, my dear.”
“The beach? What b— oh. Uh, I — I —,” stammered Menena. She stared at her trembling hands in the twilight. “I think I remember a beach. Were there other people? Yes. And… bad things. Why am I shaking?”
Light knelt down by her side, light that had been given a woman’s form. Warm hands gently took her shoulders and steadied her.
“You’re shaking because you are afraid.”
“I’m not afraid! I’m never afraid! I’m angry!”
The being chuckled. “My dear, out there you may be angry. But in here, where you are yourself, you are nothing but afraid. Well, we’ll take care of that soon enough.”
“You’ll make me less afraid?”
“Oh no, sweetheart. I’ll make you more dead.”
Fingers made of light pinched Menena’s nipples. Glowing veins spread from the hard buds into her breast’s flesh, throbbing with power. She froze in mid-motion as pressure built inside her already huge assets. Her breasts climbed higher on her chest. Their weight and size grew rapidly.
“Gaaaah—!” she managed, then her eyes snapped open again. She lay on her back, and filling her sight was her own cleavage inching closer to her chin.
Her breasts trembled like water bags being filled from a spout. Flesh, glands, fat and milk multiplied inside their wrapper. The elongated, flattened containers that hung left and right to her armpits became more bulbous and pear-shaped by the second. They crept closer to Menena’s ribcage as their expanding stuffing filled the plenteous skin and neared the only shape that maximized volume over surface. Menena moaned while softness turned to straining pressure and made her nipples rise and point to the sky. The sides of her enchanted udders lost contact with the beach when the brimming boobs rounded out. They pulled themselves on top of her chest by their own struggling skin. They should have sagged sideways anyway but for the splayed ghost-like fingers of the sparkling female outline that knelt over her belly and corralled them. Her prodding and stroking kept the bobbing balloons upright.
“Wasn’t that spectacular?” giggled the pale apparition. Her transparent finger flicked against Menena’s hard left nipple. “Onwards and upwards, we’re not done yet!” Her arms performed another encompassing gesture. “Come now, high tide and heavy water! Stuff her with the weight of her cruelty!”
“Hhhhgggg!” exhaled Menena, helpless as her breasts began to quiver and fill again. The taut skin groaned audibly now, and the weight of sacks of grain rested on her chest as her boobs stacked up. She struggled for air.
“Oh, we wouldn’t want it to be over so soon, eh?” The silver woman pushed her flat hands elbow-deep into the tight cleavage and slapped the yard-huge orbs apart. Menena’s desperate inhaling mixed with a gasp of fear. Her breasts bobbed down left and right, trapping her arms under their warm, barely yielding volume.
“I — I can’t move! I can’t move anymore!” She kicked her heels into the sand and tried to arch her back. Her mammaries’ overwhelming mass on her upper arms made sure she stayed put. The meat slopes of her ballooning breasts neared her chin now. “I’m getting buried under myself!”
“As you should,” was the specter’s gleeful reply. Her fingers wrapped around Menena’s obscenely huge nipples. She started pumping them up and down, causing wavefronts to course through the excited flesh. “More! More! Grow and grow and grow!”
The mermaid guardians stared in awe as their prey’s body was shaped by the hands they couldn’t see.
“Look at her! Look at her chest rising!”
“Goodness, they’re like two giant bubbles!”
“More and more and more! Oh I so do love me an audience,” giggled the apparition, running its glowing hands in huge circles over the struggling spheres. A spontaneous climax tore Menena’s thoughts to shreds and turned her into willing flesh. Her body sucked up all the magic streaming into her glands and ducts. When she came back to her senses, her breasts had gained another foot in diameter. Their growth showed no sign of slowing down. Her skin itched with tension and neared the tearing point.
“Oh gods — not again! Mercy! Gaaah—g—nnnnghhh!” she groaned through clenched teeth. Every sting of her skin stretching thinner, every tiny needle of pain coming from her engorging glands not only tortured her mind but also pricked and excited her crotch. Trapped in agonizing lust, she alternated between sobbing and moaning as her breasts throbbed bigger and bigger. The erupting mountains swelled beyond her elbows, reaching from just beneath her shoulders to below her navel. Even the small part of their meaty weight that still rested on Menena’s ribs was overwhelming. Her breath grew shorter again. The peach-sized nipples crowning her bulbous breasts rose higher as the shape of the milk containers grew almost perfectly spherical, strumming with tension as the multiplying content fought its overfilled wrapping.
Menena’s breath raced. “Gods! My skin! I’m — tearing — aaaagghh!”
Her piercing scream joined the silken noise of rending seams. Starting at the edge of her almost flat areola, a star pattern split open in their taut surface. Beneath the bursting seam fresh new skin unfolded and added much-needed inches to the yards of her barrel-sized ta-tas’ circumference. Their shape turned from orbs to giant pumpkins again, trading taut height for wobbling width as her skin relaxed. Menena exhaled relievedly as the lust-bearing pain subsided. Not for long, announced the bubbling noise rising from deep within the quivering cans. She managed a couple of deep breaths, then her bloating breasts had consumed the gifted skin and once again struggled against the wrapper, turning it drumhead taut.
The pressure peaked and held. The spheres took a little jump then bobbed back down. The apparition sighed and became more transparent. Floating like a warm shiver through Menena’s flesh, it bowed into the cleavage and went face to face with its victim.
“Oh dear, magic’s almost gone. We’ll have to take a little break; I think my magical mistress has some more of that delicious juice in store. Don’t worry, it’ll be quite a while until you’re too full to hold it together. Ta-ta.” Flicking a sparkling finger against Menena’s nose, the warm ghost crept backwards into her womb. Menena felt it coil around the blue stone that the mermaid had stuffed into her. Her belly swelled just enough to touch the undersides of her cleavage.
She wiggled her hands that barely showed in the shadow at the outer rim of her boobs’ footing. Her fingertips drummed against the struggling skin. “No! Stop this! Oh please, they’re — too big! Too heavy! Gods, no more! I repent! I’m — I’m sorry!”
Cold fingertips squeezed probingly against the plate-sized domes of her areolas on top of the round absurdities that her breasts had grown into.
“Amazing! Well, sisters? Isn’t it amazing how much she can hold inside?” Anosthea grinned maliciously. “Keep an eye on her, I think I’ve got another amphora of juice tucked away for such a special occasion.” She slithered underwater again.
“Didn’t I tell you?” bragged the ghostly voice. “Yes, it’ll be a looong last afternoon for you.”
“Please,” gasped the tumefied woman. Her hands clawed weakly at the ground.
“Oh, my dear, what is it?” fluted one of the hulking siren guardians as she lowered her head towards Menena’s face, running her fingers over the taut orbs that threatened to smother the helpless shopkeeper under their weight. “Amazing indeed. Don’t you worry, it’ll be over soon.” She picked up her triton again, placed the long blade in the middle flat against Menena’s straining skin and continued, smiling menacingly, “See, theses are ceremonial, but their edges are also sharp. Your skin may be still be stretching and growing now, but sooner or later there won’t be any magic left around for miles, and then you’ll simply be too full. Just a small twitch and a poke then, and you’ll go blorp like the beached, bloated, rotten whale carcass that you are, evil woman. Oh, when they’ll eventually find you, everyone in your town will think you jumped off the cliff, what with all the bloody lumps spread across the beach.”
The sun heated Menena’s skin. Droplets of sweat covered the square yards of her naked breasts. They ran down the curve of her cleavage and left salty streaks behind. She had given up on struggling and just laid there, awaiting her fate. Engorged and inflamed by carnal urge, her crotch trembled every now and then. Menena’s mind soaked up every quiver and twitch. Precious few clear thoughts were left in her head. Most of it was busy reveling in the lust brought by the flood of hormones that the sirens’ juices had fed into her.
A hand touched her ankle. She jerked in surprise and was rewarded by the sensations of sloshing waves through her breast flesh. Fingers wandered higher along the inside of her left leg. Something was put down on the beach; she heard the rustle of displaced sand.
“You must be thirsty, down there. Come now.”
Anosthea’s splayed fingers dug under the melon of Menena’s swollen vulva that lay prolapsed and glistening with wetness, forcing the woman’s legs apart with its sheer size. The witch grabbed a yielding handful of the rubbery oddity and raised the bulging hemisphere. Her thumb burrowed into the opening at the bottom of the thick gaping labia. Her forefinger joined in, then her middle finger. She spread the soaked flesh and grinned at the sight of the smooth pink skin-walled cave stretching into Menena’s depths.
“My, just like a funnel! How convenient!”
The popping of a cork followed the mermaid’s delighted exclamation. Something cool and slightly rough touched the outer rim of Menena’s vagina.
Anosthea held the hole open and raised the amphora. The thick clear liquid oozed along the curved spout. It dribbled, then ran in heavy, ropey droplets down the pink gullet.
Menena moaned as the juice warmed her inner membranes. It filled her enlarged vagina bottom to top and began to spill over through her matted pubes. The first rivulet ran down her lower belly when suddenly her cervix swallowed. A huge gulp of fire filled her womb.
“Yes, fill yourself! There’s more where that came from,” giggled Anosthea. “Come, sisters. Raise her hip.”
Strong hands grabbed Menena’s wide buttocks and lifted her meaty thighs. The next serving ran easier down her blazing cave. Her snatch slurped it up greedily. Menena quivered and trembled as the spout of the amphora was pressed against her lube-glazed giant labia and slipped between them. Her womb swelled with every pint that her bewitched crotch sucked from the container.
Her belly’s size raced in minutes through the months of a pregnancy until it reached far beyond the ninth and stood round and taut. When finally the amphora was drained, Menena’s sloshing womb wedged itself from below into her cleavage.
“Put her hip down again,” ordered Anosthea. The empty amphora stuck almost a quarter of its length inside Menena’s giant clam, with her labia a wrinkled seal around the thin neck.
“So full! I can hardly believe how bloated you are.” Anosthea put her splayed fingers against the sides of the enormous belly-ball and pushed slightly. Menena groaned as stretch marks spread like a silvery cobweb around her navel. Its cavity quickly filled with reddened, wrinkled skin until the bulge struggled through the taut rim and popped up like a third, lemon-sized nipple. Veins swelled under the belly’s sweaty skin.
“Yes, that’s full to the brim in my book. Good, good. Some fine nurturing nectar for the gem in your womb.” The witch stroked across the huge sphere, then slapped it. “Wake again, guardian! Finish the job.”
Anosthea’s fingers wedged themselves through the labia seal into Menena’s swollen hole and grabbed the rim of the empty spout. After a few rhythmic pulls, the cave let go with a final slurping noise and the labia contracted again.
“Ugh! So … big …” Menena groaned. Her belly started to throb.
Chapter 28: Plans and Changes
Meanwhile …
“Milady?”
Barbara smiled and stretched her arms. Late morning light filtered through the clear ocean, and she floated weightlessly in the fresh waters. A gentle hand brushed against her hip and moved across her firm buttocks as the mermaid that had whispered into her ear drifted by with a slow and elegant wave of her tail. She knew the voice; it was the leader of her honor guard, a slim raven that went by the name of Giacinta Whitefin of the Vast Sands, or rather …
“G’morning, Ginny. Oh my, it’s this late in the morning already?” Barbara splayed her arms and placed them against the white wall of her breasts’ hut-sized orbs in front of her. “Where’s Anosthea? She’s usually the first to stir with some duty or scheme or whatever. Isn’t today the day where that sweet ‘maid from the Deep Reef batch is to be rejuvenated? I hope she doesn’t dawdle, I can barely keep my milk in any longer, and the guardians’ ministrations aren’t helping.” She gave her breasts a thrust with her arms. Delicious sliding touches and wriggling followed behind the long wave wandering across her skin. The swarm of coiled-up sleeping mermaids that held on to her mammaries like rings of a chain mail bra woke up. The water filled with their delighted chatter.
Barbara closed her eyes and moaned. Dozens of hands rubbed her breasts with sponges, both a daily delight and a necessity to keep the square yards of her skin shiny and clean. Besides, the massage did wonders to her milk production, and on a grand day like this, every drop mattered.
She barely remembered the first days after her orbs had swelled to their new size. Those hours and hours of memories were but a haze of pussy-wetting delights while her body had slowly grown used to the enormous output of her glands and the equally enormous amount of the mermaids’ lust-carrying skin coating that the hugely increased area of her breasts absorbed with the swarm of her admirers taking turns in rubbing and cuddling her milk factories.
Oh, the first visit from David after her change! She still felt a little pang of guilt over it, but he had been so confused and embarrassed by their watchful stares and the greedy admiration he constantly received from the whole swarm that Barbara had resorted to gently using the voice on him again, at least for the first minute until her lips had taken over and teased him to the size she longed for.
The act had been a delightful masterpiece of thrust and balance, with Barbara and David rutting above the surface atop her mammaries and the whole Feeder’s Guard clinging like an anchor’s chain to her nipples, steadying her buoys to keep her from rolling over. She remembered being torn between the massive, massive delight of David’s cock stretching all her membranes from her crotch right up into her chest and the hands pulling on her dugs. Then she came, and David came, and the milk came, pouring out like a warm whirlwind around her nipples, and it was good and great.
She had never witnessed the actual rejuvenation that the quite vain mermaids often begged of her. It took place on the far side of her sight-filling breasts. David had described it to Barbara, since the candidates equally often asked him for his contribution and he had reluctantly begun to take part in the ritual after Barbara nagged him to join in day after day.
Barbara’s part came naturally, to supply a steady stream of milk. Her glands did that easily. She sometimes wondered how they managed to fit her nipples into the desiring mermaid’s mouth, but Anosthea assured her that it was the ‘maids natural way. Water carried sound quite well, so Barbara was able to listen to the gargling and stretching as they gorged themselves until their bellies jutted out, and then kept on gorging until their arms and tails had been absorbed into their distending bodies and nothing but white blobs with a pair of lips suckling in the gallons clung to her throbbing teats.
Once the encapsulated mermaid let go of the nipple, the yard-sized snake egg was well-hidden in an underwater cave for several weeks until the rejuvenated water woman emerged, tall in size, smooth in skin and firm and plenteous in bust and buttocks. Sometimes, if they were especially greedy, guzzling far beyond their share of the enchanted milk, twins would pop out of the squirming, straining shell; two identical embodiments of allure with a shared past of being one, and thus the perfect knowledge of just the right touches that this other identical body longed for. No wonder they tended to stick together.
“Mistress? Hello?”
Barbara blinked and returned to the present. The mermaid floated behind her and finished braiding Barbara’s hair into a sensible shape despite the glittering bead of pearls and gems she had managed to work into it. Barbara turned her head and eyed the beautiful slender creature peeking over her shoulder.
“Yes, sorry, Ginny. Been dozing off again. Mmmh, do they have a new kind of sponge? It feels amazing!”
“I think they’ve picked the first batch off the deeper fields of the reef, those are a bit on the rough side.” The mermaid giggled and winked. “We all know Our Feedness likes it rough, sometimes.”
“Naughty ‘maid!”
“As you wish, for as long as you wish, Mistress.” Splayed fingers squeezed Barbara’s buttocks and pulled them slightly apart. A slick tail touched Barbara’s ankles and wandered higher, parting her thighs. She laughed.
“Ooh, tempting, but no. David’s coming by this afternoon, and I don’t want to be worn out by then. Heavens, where is that Anosthea girl? Ginny, please see if you can find her. Milk’s quite pressing now, I think I need one of her potions to keep it in until the ceremony.”
“Will do, Mistress.” A twist of her tail and a quick stroke of the wide tail fin, and the black-haired mermaid darted off into the distance.
Barbara drifted with closed eyes. Her legs trembled every now and then. She sensed the constant stream of milk emerging from her glands, filling her ducts drop by drop. Her skin itched, an undeniable sign of her fullness.
“Mistress, I’m sure your gift will be plenty!” the nervous mature mermaid by her side remarked, gnawing on her forefinger’s knuckle. “You don’t need to force yourself. I beg of you, let some of it vent, it pains me to see you struggle like this.”
Barbara’s teeth ground. “I — I can still hold that, don’t you worry. It’s your great day, and rest assured, your Feeder won’t be the one to ruin it.”
“Mistress, no!” The candidate ruffled her long hair and turned in little circles like an embarrassed moon orbiting a pale white twin planet. “Please, a day or a week longer, it doesn’t matter to me! I don’t mind the wrinkles or the little sag, not if it spares you this —”
“Oh shut up! You’ll have your fill today.” Barbara turned her head the other way. “And you, keep your grip on my nipples! Don’t worry, I’m good. Unngh!” Four pairs of hands fought for room on her engorged dugs, squeezing them to stop her overfilling of white deliciousness from bursting forward.
“Mistress!” The water carried Ginny’s voice long before she appeared as a blur of black hair in front of the sparkly silver pendulum of her tail. “I’m sorry, we’ll need to delay. You, guards, release her nipples, milk her down a notch!”
“Don’t you dare!” Barbara interjected. “What’s with this? Where’s Ano? What’s going on? Whooooaa—mmmh,” she groaned. The short release and renewed grasp had the plenteous milk squeeze forth and back through the final stretch of her ducts, increasing the itch and strain in her areola that showed as swollen hills already. “Gods —”
“I’m sorry, Mistress, there’s no way Anosthea will be here on time.” Ginny cleared her throat. “She’s having some, uh, princess trouble, I guess. Over at the deserted beach. Big princess trouble. She’s just an apprentice witch after all.”
“P—princess trouble? Gods, the milk, nnngh, the milk!” Barbara clenched her hands. “What business does she have with — haaaah! — princesses?”
“Uh, well, y’know, the land dweller’s fine ladies, they’re pretty vain, and so,” Ginny uneasily scratched the back of her head, avoiding Barbara’s misty gaze, “well, Ano, she’s known to linger around the castles’ beaches and if she sees some girl staring out at the sea all alone and sad, she’s, sometimes, y’know, giving a bit of her gift to the fair ladies for a trade.”
“What?!”
“Please, your Feedness,” groaned her clampers, “don’t you move so suddenly, we can barely hold you shut any more!”
“Uh —,” squirmed the Head of Guard.
“Ginny, don’t you uh me! That trade stuff, what is this about?”
“Oh, just, y’know, a bit more up top or a nicer tush or a wider rump. Princes, they’re a demanding bunch and all the girls want to look the fairy part.” She giggled. “Seems she’s taken on a vain queen in need of a juicy bust this time, and she’s bitten of more than she prolly’ should’ve had. Went to her womb, big time.” Ginny’s gestures were descriptive and expansive. “Poor woman looked like she’s about to drop three o’ our twin eggs, and that can’t be easy on her. I mean, didn’t look like it’s supposed to work like that. Saw Ano dousing the poor lass’ womb with a whole amphora of juice and then gesticulating like mad. I see her like that, I keep my distance. Please, Mistress, unload your milk, the ceremony’s not going to happen today.”
“Like that’s going to happen!” moaned Barbara. “I can stand another couple of inches, easily! I’m the Feeder!”
Ginny’s firm nipples rubbed against Barbara’s back. “And I’m the Feeder’s Keeper, and I say enough,” she breathed into Barbara’s ear. Her fingers slid down Barbara’s perineum. Warm and swollen did the young woman’s labia shape themselves into Ginny’s cupped hand, and she kneaded and stroked them gently. Her middle finger’s tip traced the smooth pink and dug into the slippery tube.
“Hhhh — Ginny, oh the gods, don’t you do thaaaaaat to me, I can’t hold — it — jyyyyiiinnnn!”
The mermaid snapped her thumb and forefinger currently not inside her mistress, and the clampers let go. Barbara’s teats, freed from the choking grip, swelled rapidly. Her ducts dilated and the boiling milk shot out. Her body pushed against Ginny as the dammed-up milk escaped from her nipples in long jets. They turned into swirly white mushroom clouds as they collided with the cool water. The constant blow back slowly moved the cubic yards of glands with their host and her dexterous servant away from the expanding milk cloud that formed in front of Barbara’s breasts. Arms splayed wide and knees drawn up, pressing her thighs against the sides of her breasts, Barbara held on to her giant orbs as she shook and twitched in the throes of pleasure, riding her own mammaries.
“Ginny, please — I’m shrinking — oh no, all of my hoarded milk — coming out — Gods! Ginny!”
“Yes, Mistress? Do you enjoy it?” The mermaid wiggled her tail between Barbara’s legs and forced the slippery muscular trunk into the deep cleft of Barbara’s more than man-sized cleavage from behind and below. Her hands changed their grip. They clutched Barbara’s hips just beneath her waist and slowly pushed the wide-open crotch back and forth across Ginny’s protruding venus mound. Their juicy flushed labia slipped through each other’s.
“Oh yes —,” rasped Barbara. “Oh my, Ginny, you’re — so — mmmh! — Wet! Gods, you’re hhaaahhh! Squirting! Right into m—my—maaaayyyyhhhh—!”
“Yes — oh yes — take — take it — take my — take it hhaaaahhhhlll!” Giacinta pinched her eyes and panted hot whirls of water against the neck of the woman quivering in front of her. She spooned against Barbara’s body, clinging to it with her arms wrapped around her Mistress’ narrow waist, twitching and squirming with her tail stuck in the yards of cleavage as the jets from the pair of spewing milk balloons send them slowly turning and gyrating through the ocean’s weightlessness.
The uneven thrusts of milk being jettisoned from Barbara’s nipples had subsided together with the barrage of climaxes big and small. The woman and the mermaid floated, still joined at the hip by Barbara’s thighs clenched around Ginny’s muscular trunk. Their crotches were a mess of slippery juices that glazed the woman’s skin from her navel to her knees. She gulped, then her expression of blissful absence changed into a radiating satiated smile.
“Oh my! Ginny, you hot-blooded minx, look at that mess! Look what you’ve done! I’m soaked! All the milk you robbed from me! I’m tiny again!” Barbara giggled. “I can almost see the top of my breasts!” Her fingers probed the skin of her eight foot mammaries. “Shrunken and empty yet still smooth and firm. Oh my, magic breasts are the best breasts!”
She brushed a few strands out of her face. “Whew! Now, Ginny, about that princesses stuff, explain this to me again. I love Ano as much as the next ’maid, but without an elder witch to guide her, she’s been getting into too much trouble with her bumbling.”
“Ah, it’s nothing really. And there’s not much about princesses in these parts, it’s mostly just Countesses or rich daughters. She does some of her tricks with the boob pearls and her finger wiggling, then takes some trinket for the ‘effort’, like a crown or some jewelry or a first-born.”
“Oh, so — wait, what?!”
“Well, there seems to be no end to those, y’know. Personally, I like pearl necklaces better, but —”
“First-born?!”
Ginny drew a face. “Ouch! Mistress, don’t clench so much, your thighs are strong!”
“Giacinta, you tell me. You tell me now! Tell me she doesn’t eat them or — or drown them, or —”
“What, like the fishermen? No, of course not. Besides, you said you don’t like that, so we stopped.” She cleared her throat. “Uh, mostly,” she added under her breath. “Accidents happen when they get eager.”
“So what does she do?!”
“Well, puts them in baskets and places them at the doors of fishermen’s huts. Says it’s some experiment or other about finding out if there’s such a thing like destiny. There must be dozens of hidden nobles around these coasts, I tell y—”
“You. Take me. To her. NOW!”
“Uh, of course, Mistress.” Ginny gulped.
Oh my, Ano’s about to get an earful. Ginny’s face was a twitching collection of embarrassed expressions as she wiggled free and clapped her hands. “Feeder’s pushers, assemble!”
Eyes closed, Barbara rode just above the waterline on her firm twin pontoons. Half a dozen mermaids had their splayed fingers against the underside of her breasts and forced the orbs through the water with their strong whipping tails. Their Feeder moaned and gasped for air. Her legs twitched, and her thick juices crept down the insides of her thighs and into the cleft of her boobs where they were washed away each time a strong wave squeezed through the funnel of her cleavage. Each and every wavefront and uneven thrust wandering through the wobbling mass titillated her glands further and made sure her body was supplying her mind with an endless stream of orgasms. With Barbara’s nipples wide open, her constant output of milk turned into a pair of white lines curling in the eddies behind her living outboard motors.
Chapter 29: Choices and Regrets
The sun burned on Menena’s man-sized brimming breasts. She felt the ever-increasing amount of liquid that streamed through her ducts and made her areola ache with pressure. Her skin hadn’t stretched bigger for quite a while, and the strain bordered on unbearable.
“Gods! So — much milk! I — please, I need to — I must give — suck — please, suck my nipples! I — I can’t stand — the pain!” Menena’s wails echoed across the beach. “H—haaaah!” The pressure finally overcame her dugs’ resistance. Finger-thick white jets jumped from her opening nipples and arched everywhere like a badly adjusted fountain. Some came drumming down on her breasts’ taut skin again and ran in thick drops down the sides, glazing the pale mountains and cooling the red skin.
She sagged down. “Oh thank the gods, it’s coming out. It’s finally coming out.”
“Huh. Oh look, you’re leaking already. Y’know … no, I don’t think so.” Anosthea licked her fingertips and put them together. The ducts in Menena’s nipples snapped shut, and the jets were cut off. The last drops spattered on the sand and gravel.
“Nooo! The — pressure!” Menena squirmed, trapped under her breasts that began to quiver. The milk mountains hissed audibly now, and a faint rumble started, just at the edge of hearing.
Laying on her belly on the beach and propped up on her elbows, Anosthea shuddered with delight when a strong wave splashed over her buttocks and licked against the sides of her breasts’ handfuls.
“Eheheh. My, there’s nothing like lounging around and watching one’s handiwork come together. Or rather, apart.” She chuckled. “Aaaaany moment now. Oh, the mistress is going to love her new necklace, made from her tormentor’s teeth. Eh, sisters? I can just hear her, full of surprise, asking —”
“What is going on here?”
“No, more like Oooh, now how do you always manage to find such nice —”
The guardian to Anosthea’s left suddenly grabbed her shoulder and shook her.
“Uh, Ano —”
Anosthea rolled over and stared at Barbara. The young woman struggled to her feet in the shallow water. Her breasts slipped across the sandy beach and obscured her body but for the head, but the ocean was just deep enough for her mammaries to half float, half bounce as she leaned forward and took heavy steps towards the shore.
“Ano, what are you doing? Who is that? She doesn’t sound happy!”
“Gods! Oh please, kill me! Kill me! The milk! I’m coming apart! So much milk! My skin — is tearing!” The desperate voice turned into the howling of a lethally wounded beast as the strain in the surface of the pair of breasts made them glossy like porcelain.
“Aw! Your Feedness! What are you doing here? My surprise is ruined now! I wanted it to be an unexpected gift!”
“Aaaayyyyyiieeeeeee!”
Barbara hesitated. She slanted her head and frowned.
“Is this — Menena?! Heavens, it’s her! Ano, what is going on? What have you done? She’s in agony! Please, stop this! Leave her alone, I beg of you!”
“What?!” Anosthea rose and put her hands to her hips. “But — she tortured you, your Feedness!” She waved at the wailing heap of breasts. “She deserves this, and more!”
Barbara straightened, disregarding the pain of her stretched skin that connected the pair of her mammaries to her ribs. Her worried, pleading features hardened. “Does she now, Anosthea? Do you enjoy this? Is that supposed to make me feel better, seeing a woman in pain and fear of death? What sick idea is that? You stop this, this instant!” thundered her voice over the beach, echoing back from the high cliffs. “If I had known you’d do something this mean and cruel, I wouldn’t have told you my tale in the first place!”
“How could I stop it now?” Anosthea replied and shrugged. “Besides, she wanted the milk stone; it’s her own fault that she’s stuck with it now.”
Barbara rolled her eyes. “Come on, Ano. Just order her to take it off or something.”
“It’s not around her neck, Your Feedness,” smirked Anosthea. “It’s up her cooch. She’s got a very huge one now. It’s a twisted labyrinth in there, no way to find it, even less of a chance to fish it out again, even if I wanted to.”
“I never needed to find it. The blue stone always came back to me.” Barbara eyed the pair of swollen breasts and sighed. “Fine, I will do it myself if you’re so spiteful,” she declared. “I will suck it from her. I’ve spent a year with my guards teaching me how to do that right.” A wry smile flashed across her face. Oh yes, her mermaid guardians had many skills, and they were untiring and always willing to teach their varied ways of giving and receiving delights.
“Your Feedness, no!” Anosthea grabbed the young woman’s upper arm as Barbara dragged herself by towards the shore. “You can’t!”
Barbara glared at the young witch. “I can’t? Sounds more like you mean I shouldn’t, eh? Well, someone has to be humane around here,” she groaned. “If only because I know how it feels, all too well! I won’t let her burst, not when I can help her. So she’s been mean out of jealousy, but I know she also has a heart that once welcomed me when I was alone and had no one else caring for me!”
She waved towards Giacinta. “Honor guard! Wrap my breasts into the boob net, I want to pull myself onto the beach.”
“No!” Anosthea protested. “Your Feedness, be reasonable! Why do you even care about her so much? She’s an evil wannabe witch who trapped you and took delight in torturing you with the pains of swelling! Well, now she can see what it’s like, first hand.”
Barbara’s gaze was icy enough to almost leave a layer of hoarfrost on Anosthea’s skin. “Do you even listen to yourself, Ano? Is your memory so short-lived?” Then she lowered her head and shook it. “What do you see there on the beach? A woman with breasts swollen beyond belief, afraid of tearing apart? Does that not remind you of someone else, not so long ago? Anosthea, please, is a vengeful witch really what you want to become?”
Anosthea opened her lips for an angry reply. It never came, as suddenly her eyebrows moved upwards. She only mutely moved her jaw as she slowly turned and took in the wobbly pair of orbs with Menena beneath them. She slapped her hands over her mouth.
“The gods! I’ve turned into her! I’m not an ocean’s drop better than her! How could I — why didn’t I see — what have I done?” stammered the young mer-witch.
Barbara put her hand soothingly on the apprentice’s shoulder. “It’s still time, Ano. Come, help me undo it.”
“No! Your Feedness, you don’t understand. It’s too late to save her! She’s about to burst, she’s been stuffed beyond her volume, she’s full of pressure and the magic has almost run out! The lightest touch will make her go off!” Anosthea’s eyes were big and brimming with tears. “I — I did this! I’m a monster!”
She sniffled. “Look at her skin! She can’t take any more. Just a single grain of sand shifting might be too much. The gem is still inside her, and the white lady is furious and drenched in power. She won’t listen to me; she’s bent on destroying that mean shrew from the inside.”
“She’ll listen to me. She did even when she was wounded and aching, that day on the beach when I was turned.”
“Your Feedness, she listened because you held the gem. You can’t reach it this time. It’s stuck far too deep inside. That woman’s crotch is glazed and all of her innards are soaked with the lotion. A mere touch of that, and you’ll begin to swell like a pair of sails, because you’re the Feeder and your body will eat up all that power in moments! Your breasts will become immense around her. Either she’ll burst right inside your cleavage, or you’ll crush her like a bug before your own weight kills you like a beached whale.”
“Would it now,” mused Barbara. “You have given me many enchanted rings and gems, all the better to have my way with my husband. I think I’ve got one that can use this much power, instead of it going into my breasts.” She licked her lips.
“No, your Feedness. I won’t let you any closer to her. It’s too dangerous!” Anosthea hesitated. Her breath became spasmodic, and she closed her eyes. Fear shuddered through her body as she said, “I’ll go instead! I must right what I did wrong.”
“Shut up, Anosthea. You mustn’t, and we both know why.” Barbara leaned in. Her voice became a whisper. “I can’t make another witch for the swarm, but you can make another Feeder for them.”
“But it’s all my fault!” wailed the young mermaid, desperately clinging to Barbara. “You mustn’t be the one to pay for it!”
“The pain!” Menena’s howl echoed from the cliffs.
Barbara gently freed herself from her witch’s embrace. “There’s no time, Ano. I’ve decided. I’m going.”
Barbara’s hands clawed into the strong net that kept her soft breasts in check. Warm sand slipped by under her turgid nipples. The six feet high breast hill that was Menena sobbed quietly. Her taut orbs barely shook inside their straining skin that had become flushed and hard with tension.
“I’m sorry … I’m sorry …,” she kept on repeating.
“Now you’re sorry,” groaned Barbara, bridging the last yard. She leaned into her own cleavage and squeezed her gigantic breasts aside to get a better view. Her body sank through her breasts’ tight cleft. The glazed pumpkin of Menena’s vulva between the woman’s widespread legs came closer as the feeder’s orbs engulfed their bearer and settled like pillows around her. Barbara’s knees touched down on the warm sand. She extended her hand.
Barbara rubbed Menena’s meaty labia between thumb and forefinger. The skin on her fingers began to itch, and the red stone in her ring flashed as it absorbed the strong magic. Barbara parted the hand sized petals that split from the huge hole at the bottom straight up to the top where the engorged plump strawberry of Menena’s clit sat on an inch long thick rod, throbbing like an eager but woefully short cock. She gazed into the vagina’s gaping opening beneath. All the way down into blackness, its ribbed walls clenched and relaxed like a bellows and breathed musky air into her face.
“Goodness, Anosthea, you’ve outdone yourself this time,” muttered the blonde as incredulity and curiosity fought for a place on her face.
Menena just barely recognized the voice. “Barbara?! I’m so sorry! I — I didn’t know — how it hurts! Aaaaaghhh! I — I only wanted more milk, I didn’t know — forgive me, please! Stop this pain! Make it stop! Gods, cut my throat, do what you will with me, but end this pain, please!” She sobbed from the far side of her inflated breasts.
“Oh, I’ll make it stop all right,” groaned Barbara, laying Menena’s crotch bare. She pouted and pressed her lips against the quivering, glistening flesh, slurping the glazing from the plump outer labia until they were even redder. Her finger with the ring trembled, and the stone flashed almost blindingly. The magical trinket was at the brink of discharge. Barbara took a deep breath, held it in and rubbed her cheeks in circles against the soft, yielding wrinkles. The swollen labia rubbed over her temples as she forced her face into the widening funnel. Menena’s thighs clutched her head.
The mermaids of her entourage watched nervously as they lay side by side at the water’s edge, pressing their bodies flat against the sand just in case that bloated woman would burst and send a rain of entrails across the beach. They stared and chattered quietly.
“Is she — is she drinking all of that lotion? All that power! She should be filling this bay by now! Yet she’s just packing it in! Goodness, the Feeder is gifted all right!”
“Gods! Her face — her whole head is slipping into that fat hole! She’s so brave! I would’ve just thrown a trident at that wailing thing to shut it up!”
The ring did its duty. Barbara’s throat trembled. She lowered her jaw and extended her tongue. The wet tip traced the wrinkly rosy cave of her former mistress. Everything inside Menena was coated with the strange taste of magic. Barbara grabbed the woman’s fleshy buttocks and pushed. Even her jaw fit comfortably into the gaping sex hole. Her lips rimmed the inner circle. She knew she wouldn’t need air for minutes, but her shoulders ran against the plump orb and kept her from entering further.
Her tongue itched with power now. She stretched it out, and it kept on stretching and widening. Soon her lips barely fit around the tentacle that grew thicker at its base as it kept on conquering the strange landscape of Menena’s enchanted monster cunt.
“Y—you're … filling … me,” groaned the mature woman. Her plentiful juices foamed all around the writhing and swelling tongue that ladled them up and transported them into Barbara’s thirsty maw, adding fuel to the magical fire blazing through her body. The tongue tip reached Menena’s cervix and tickled against the smooth ring, positioning itself into the opening.
“Yes,” moaned Menena, “deeper! The gods, what a way to go! Lick me dry, swallow me, impale me!”
Pushing and prodding, Barbara forced her tongue’s slippery cone through the round muscle. The cavern behind it was filled with a slightly sweet liquid, and it was vast, so huge it couldn’t possibly fit into the belly, bloated though as Menena’s midriff looked. Barbara angled her tongue and let the tentacle coil and roam along the squishy ribbed wall.
Barbara’s searching tongue tip ran against something hard and smooth. At the mere touch her mind was pulled forward into darkness and fell into a lightless void —
Chapter 30: The Forest of Pears
Barbara blinked. Her body felt wrong. She hesitated. No, wrong wasn’t the right word. It felt different, reduced. She needed a few moments to recognize that the weird sensations came from having an ordinary woman’s proportions again.
So that’s what I was like … all my life? Feels strange now.
She ran her fingers up her sides and cupped her soft, voluminous breasts. They filled her hands easily but the encompassing touch wasn’t nearly as orgasmic as the response she had become used to. Barbara frowned and struggled to her feet, fighting the disorientation. Somehow she knew this world, she remembered the wet sand under her feet even though the rest was very different. Instead of the empty plains under a black sky, now she stood in a forest of vines covered in plump pears. The tangled jungle glowed in an eerie blue, and the color of the fist-sized fruits pulsed slowly, changing from cerulean to white and back again with each stroke. She followed the narrow path and almost ran into the white being as she turned around a thick stem that had blocked her view.
“Mistress!” breathed the apparition. Moments later, her warm arms encompassed Barbara’s chest. “So long you’ve been out of my reach! Have you come to marvel at the gift I’ve been preparing for you?”
Barbara gazed at the walls of the tiny clearing. These pears were huge like honey melons. They glowed and throbbed much stronger. She saw them swelling with each pulse. The woman-shaped creature of light took a succulent pear in both hands and caressed it gently while her light seemed to rub off into the bulging fruit.
“What is this place? What are those … those things?”
Even without discernible features, Barbara felt the proud smile of the white lady. “These are the source of milk, deep in that mean woman’s breasts. I’m nurturing them, preparing them, filling them. Oh, they could feed whole towns with all the power I bestowed upon them. Soon, they’ll begin to turn power into milk, filling beyond measure, and she’ll burst. So sad, yet so deserved. Come, sit with me, let us watch her demise. No harm will come to you with me by your side.”
“No!” Barbara stumbled away and ran backwards against the warm, pulsating mesh of veins and lobules. Her hands searched for a grip and closed around two fat glands, squeezing their pints of milk into straining ducts that led nowhere. From somewhere in the distance, Menena’s moan filtered unearthly into the weird place. Barbara shuddered and quickly opened her hands again. She turned to the apparition.
“Stop that. Please! End this, do not fill her any further. Let her purge all that, before it’s too late!”
“Mistress, is this not to your liking? I’ve done my best! All the magic and power that I’ve been given I have spread into these burgeoning boobs, and they’re only just waking! Soon she’ll produce milk by the barrel and with her nipples clamped her breasts will burst like overstuffed sacks.”
“No! I do not want that! I don’t want her to suffer. I don’t want anyone to suffer! Listen to me. You’ve been my guardian. How is this about guarding me? She can’t harm me anymore. Please, make her normal again.”
Barbara hesitated. Something about the specter’s posture felt wrong. The living light seemed uneasy.
“You can do that, can’t you?” she inquired.
“Uh … it’s — it’s too late to undo it. I spent hours touching every single one of them, carefully setting them up, and they’ll all begin to turn power into milk within moments.”
“What if I pulled you — your stone — out before that, would it help her?”
“Well,” the light shrugged, “no. All that magic’s in her flesh now. Can’t undo it anymore, because I left none for myself.”
Barbara grabbed the apparition’s shoulders, closed her eyes and put her forehead to the faceless light’s.
“I won’t give up so easily. Send me back now.”
If anything, the world was darker as Barbara’s mind returned from the strange place that the gem called home. No light save for the reddish glow of the midday sun filtering through the taut swollen flesh of Menena’s crotch. The oozing, throbbing pink funnel she wore like a mask over her face didn’t let in any air. Barbara’s tongue traced the gem deep inside Menena’s salty wet womb, and she drew on the lube’s power as she willed another ten inches to her agile appendage, shoving it deep into the abyss to Menena’s horny wails of delight. She licked up the precious stone and began the long retreat.
Thick and meaty, the tentacle of Barbara’s enchanted tongue curled out through Menena’s straining cervix. The flushed rosette became pale as it stretched and struggled around the coil of the tongue tip that held the blue gem wrapped up tightly.
“Gaaaahh! M—my womb! You’re tearing it out!” wailed the swollen woman as lust turned into pain again. Barbara grabbed Menena’s spread-eagled thighs and pushed.
Shluurgh.
Her face emerged glazed with lube from the pink funnel while her wide-open lips still strained around her grotesquely enlarged tongue that stretched like a pink python trapped between her mouth and the depths of Menena’s vagina. The labia bulged and widened as the plump cervix, huge like a coconut, was dragged to daylight. The ring muscle seemed unwilling to relinquish its grip on the gem.
“Mmmmphht!” Barbara pulled stronger. Menena’s womb widened. Sparkles of magic came from the gem and danced around the opening. The smooth flesh ring throbbed bigger together with the whole dome that housed the bizarre crotch, and finally the cervix was big enough to lose its greedy grip.
Shplop.
Four feet of wrist-thick tongue slid back between Barbara’s gaping lips and down her throat like an outstretched spring being released. She gulped and opened her eyes wide.
She gulped again and ran her fingertips over her neck.
“I — I swallowed the stone!”
White fingers, almost transparent in the daylight, caressed her flanks.
“Oh yes, mistress. Oooh, finally I’m inside you, it’s so much better than just dangling between your breasts. Ah! I’ll be your obedient servant, now that I’m one with your body.”
“So — so you can make me strong again?”
“As long as there’s magic, I’ll do my best. And — oooh, you’ve glutted yourself on Mistress Anosthea’s lotion, haven’t you? Heavens, is there magic in you!”
“Good. Good! Make yourself useful then! Help me stand up, my breasts are … unwieldy on land.”
“As you wish, mistress.”
Barbara felt firmness building in her man-sized boobs. They no longer anchored her to the ground between Menena’s legs. She struggled to her feet and took a step backwards. Her breasts dragged themselves across the sand and came to rest in front of her, growing almost as weightless as underwater until only a plate-sized area of their undersides kept contact with the beach. She took a step forward, and they bobbed ahead.
“Yes,” she moaned relievedly, “that’s much better.”
A deep rumbling sent vibrations through her soles.
“The gods! They’re — growing again!” howled Menena.
“Mistress, it’s almost time,” whispered the white lady’s disembodied voice. “Her breasts are waking. Please, let’s go back into the water, this beach will soon be such a gooey mess!”
Barbara shook her head and wiped the last smears of Menena’s juices off her face.
“I will not let that happen. Find a way to relieve her, gem.”
She shuddered as warm kisses from invisible lips wandered along the side of her neck. Barbara pinched her eyes when they reached her cheeks, then the pouted lips were pressed on her closed eyelids. Contours appeared. Barbara recognized them for the two taut orbs of her former mistress, only now they looked transparent like jellyfish. She staggered a step forward and raised her hand. The mermaids behind her gasped in unison.
“Do not touch them,” warned her ethereal guardian too.
“I’m sick of being told what I can do,” hissed Barbara. Her fingers touched the struggling skin.
“Oooaaahhh!” howled Menena.
Slippery with sweat, the overstuffed flesh quivered under Barbara’s touch. Her gifted sight revealed rings that rippled out from her fingers across the milk planets’ surface like waves from a stone dropped into a pond.
“She’s holding. What a surprise!” gasped the creature.
“It’s almost like they’re glowing,” frowned Barbara. “Like there’s glowing milk stuck just behind the teats and spreading like veins into her melons.”
“Well observed, mistress,” whispered the ghostly presence. “It’s milk of magic, not her own. The mermaids fed it to her breasts, squeezing the juice into her through her dry dugs. Now she’s been hexed tight, keeping it all in. Her udders will keep on conjuring up milk until, well, she becomes too full. Aaand — pop.”
Barbara blinked, and the scenery returned to normal. “Surely not if we squeeze that juice out? Go ahead, make her ducts open again.”
“Squeeze her too much, she bursts. Besides, even if she sprays like a whale, that magic’s bound to her now. It’ll just seep back into her and force more milk to come out in an endless cycle until her ducts can’t take it anymore. She can’t be saved, only by death.”
Barbara’s fingers hovered over the taut skin. “So someone has to hold in the magic juice she gives so it can’t get into her again. She just needs to be suckled dry.”
“Just? Mistress, she’s huge. It’ll come out mixed with her milk, and she has gallons of that, too. Nobody can stomach that much so quickly.”
Barbara eyed the pair of breasts. They were indeed huge but nowhere near as huge as her own had been after the first ceremony.
“Mine were bigger. So I can hold that.”
“But Mistress —,” the presence protested.
“No — no, don’t do that,” panted Menena, too. “I’m worthless! You — you mustn’t sacrifice yourself for me, please!”
“Shut it. I still have hope for you, that’s why. Come here now, let’s tit-scissor like — that …”
Barbara took a step forward. Her enchanted breasts ran into Menena’s cursed cleavage with an ooing sound. She leaned in further. The four taut orbs spread a bit and squeaked as they arranged themselves against the crevices of each other’s cleavage, then the rising pressure forced the two women apart again.
“Aaaaagh! Please — so full, I can’t hold it — don’t squeeze me again,” panted Menena.
“We’re both too full and firm! I can’t even reach a nipple,” groaned Barbara. “And the skin’s slippery all over. Wait, let me go around, try it from the side —”
“She’s lucky her teats are pointing outward,” observed the apparition. Her ethereal fingers stroked through Barbara’s humungous mammaries and softened their firm round shape, making them settle down on the beach again. “You may push closer now, mistress.”
Barbara leaned into the smooth skin. Her breasts’ warm chasm widened around Menena’s hard bulging orb. Both women moaned in delight as the ballooned breast squeezed into the soft embrace of Barbara’s malleable cleavage and their mammaries almost merged.
“Ugh!” moaned Barbara. “What’s happening — I — I can’t think right, I’m getting so horny.”
“It’s the lotion on her skin,” whispered her ghostly advisor.
“Yes — let me die like this, in your chasm of milk,” stammered Menena, her tongue hanging from the corner of her mouth. Her head dangled without strength.
“Still can’t reach her dug! Gem, roll me forward onto my chest!”
“No! You’ll —”
“I didn’t ask!”
Splayed fingers grabbed Barbara’s buttocks and pushed. Her feet lost touch of the ground as she shifted onto her own breasts and slipped closer to the huge dome of Menena’s throbbing areola trapped between them. The glazed teat was finally within reach.
Up close, the turgid, cock-sized nipple seemed beyond huge. Barbara licked and sucked the lube from the areola and hesitated before she finally grabbed it with both hands.
“What a teat! There’s even a hole in the middle.”
“Haaaah! Yes, yes, knead it! Knead it open!” begged Menena’s lust-choked voice.
I remember David put his finger into mine and opened me, letting my milk out when I was bloated. Barbara quickly dug her forefinger inside the slippery canal, but only managed to make the nipple’s first three inches swell around her digit.
“Uuughh! Deeper! Deeper!” Menena howled, burning up between pain and raw horniness.
Finger’s no use, but I still have a few extra inches to my tongue, Barbara mused. She opened her mouth, moistened her lips and put them over the taut, erect nipple. No matter how she struggled, barely half of the hardened flesh cylinder fit between her lips. She kneaded the areola with her hands and sucked and squeezed the swollen teat with her lips. Menena groaned more lecherously but nothing else happened.
Barbara licked into the tight tunnel. Longer and thinner, she wished. Her tongue obeyed. It slithered into the narrow passage and finally tickled the dead end of constricted wrinkles.
The excited flesh responded immediately. The nipple gained another inch in diameter. Barbara’s lips were locked firmly on the rough-skinned spout now. Warm and sweet, the mixture of milk and magic forced her tongue back out of the distending pipe. She sucked as hard as she dared. The taut pillow underneath her throbbed stronger.
Is this milk? she mused. The liquid was sweeter than her own milk’s taste, and it had the consistency of warm honey. Barbara’s cheeks fell in. She needed all the vacuum she could build just to draw a mouthful from the swollen bud.
“Mmmmh. Pure magic, mistress. Swallow it! I’ll use it to make your mouth stronger,” the apparition whispered excitedly.
Barbara forced the sticky sweet gulp down her throat. Her cheeks tickled as invisible lips and fingers stroked them.
“Now suckle some more.”
Barbara pushed her face against the swollen areola and sucked at the clogged teat. Rough skin slipped through Barbara’s lips until the nipple stuck to the hilt inside her mouth. Menena’s howling was raw bestial delight. The reluctant juice seeped from every pore that was subjected to the powerful draw.
“Easy, mistress! You wouldn’t want to draw blood, would you?”
A powerful gush of milk blasted the last of the thick juice out of Menena’s teat. Barbara’s cheeks bulged as the pressurized liquid suddenly filled her mouth. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t keep up.
“Mistress!” Gentle fingers stroked her throat. “You broke the seal! You’re so daring! You’ll need this here —”
Something in her neck stretched, and the thrust in her mouth eased. Barbara reached around the throbbing breast for as far as her arms could and held on. The thick jet blasted out of Menena’s fluttering teat, rushed down Barbara’s gullet and into her stomach. Barely a second passed before she was full. Her belly’s skin stung and ached, jutting out beneath her ribcage like a pumpkin. She closed her eyes in pain as the pressure grew.
Gods’ mercy! She’s too full! I’m — bursting with her milk! I — I hoped — Why isn’t it going into my breasts?!
The specter’s hands cupped her straining orb. The pain vanished as her angel drew upon the liquid’s buzzing power and funneled it into Barbara’s skin. The struggling bladder full of milk stretched like rubber and jumped into the triangular space between Menena’s and Barbara’s breasts.
Growing more spherical by the second, she felt her distending paunch as it rubbed first against her thighs, then her knees, sagging down with the weight of gallons being pumped down her gullet until it touched warm sand. Something hard inside her rolled along the inner wall of the milk bowl, forced its ways through the paper-thin flesh and made Barbara’s navel pop up like an egg. The skin over the blue stone opened and retreated until it stuck in her navel’s framing like a piece of jewelry.
“Yes! My perfect home! My mistress’ center!” moaned her ethereal guardian.
With Menena’s puffed up breast inches from her face and blocking her view, only the traces of warmth on her skin told Barbara of the ghostly fingers circling her stretching belly.
“I like round things. I like round growing things! Oh, I like them bigger and bigger!”
Barbara’s mammaries itched. A hint of salt lingered on her tongue despite the powerful stream of milk washing into her. The itching turned into a throbbing as her breasts began to grow while Menena’s rack slowly shrank away. Barbara clung to the raven’s right breast only, but Menena’s pair seemed connected. They shriveled evenly under her.
Her lips weren’t stuffed with the giant nipple any longer. With the tautness leaving, Barbara managed to grab a firm hold of the skin of Menena’s breasts, pulled at the wrinkling wrapper and dragged the emptying bags into a tight embrace, squeezing them to force more milk from the excited flesh.
“Oh the gods,” moaned the raven, then she didn’t speak up again for quite a while as Barbara sucked pint upon pint from her overblown breast and made it her own, distending while she enveloped the exhausted, almost delirious women in her cleavage.
Menena stared empty-eyed at the sliver of sky visible beyond the cleavage above her. She felt herself melting away through her teat, and she wasn’t sure if she just shrank or if her body trickled away into the ground under her back at the same time. Barbara’s stretching and swelling breasts had left and right risen to twice a man’s height. The incredible cleavage was about to close above her and her former servant who clung to her udder’s nipple like the greediest calf ever.
Any moment now the last drop, the last of her strength, would squirt from her chest. She knew it and she smiled. What a way to go …
The breast walls closed. Darkness descended.
Chapter 31: Aftermath
1187 again …
Slender fingers played in Menena’s soaked, matted mane. Her body felt like a wrung-out rag, and her spine glowed with dull pain. Air was forced into her lungs, then two plump lips broke their seal around her mouth.
“Welcome back,” whispered Anosthea’s voice.
Menena lay spread-eagled on the slippery body under her, facing down and moving faintly, rubbing her cheek against the side of the siren’s head. The muscles inside the mucus-lubed trunk of the mermaid’s fused legs moved back and forth in waves between Menena’s thighs. Her fingers followed Anosthea’s hourglass contour from the round hips up along the mermaid’s flanks until they brushed against the sides of her own breasts’ overflowing pillows that smothered the narrow-shouldered fish girl. Trapped under Menena’s weight-flattened pumpkins, the mer-witch’s hard nipples crowning her youthfully firm hemispheres played like fingertips around the mature woman’s own engorged strawberries as the snake body writhed delightedly. The last loop of the agile tail let go and slithered along the small of Menena’s back as her captor relaxed.
“Gods,” moaned Menena, her voice soaked with delight, “I lived through our first encounter again! All of it! You monster from the deep, you milk-crazy abomination!”
Anosthea’s sharp teeth nibbled on her earlobe. “And you, you sick power hungry intriguer cow with your seductive udders!” Her tongue followed the inner rim of Menena’s ear, and her hands wandered over the woman’s back with her fingertips scratching lightly down the groove of the raven’s spine. “You long for the whip, for the pain, for the crushing, time and again. You never once said the safe word. What is wrong with you?”
Their lips met, gently squeezing and suckling on each other’s.
“Mmmmhh — What is wrong with us, wouldn’t you say?” Menena sighed happily and worked her hands under the fish creature’s back, pressing the amazingly agile, alive girl against her mature curves, sharing sweaty body heat. Her thighs squeezed into the firm trunk between her legs. She slowly gyrated her hips. The reddened, swollen clams made squelching sounds as they rubbed against each other. “Unngh — so wet — mmmh.” She licked her lips. “Oh, we are very much the same.”
“Not,” whispered the siren girl into her ear, grabbed Menena’s meaty buttocks and dug her talons into the globes, increasing the pressure, mashing their swollen love buds into each other’s warm puffy labia.
“Unnnnh,” moaned the mayor. “Gods! We’re not that different. We struggle and fight, for my town, for your swarm or whatever you call it. I do things, and they need to be done, for the good of all, but they’re not nice things. You of all people know that. Uhhh! Yes — yes, keep — keep on — Haaah! You know of the evil in my soul. You know how I treated Barbara, you know how mean I can become if I go unpunished for too long!”
The siren licked her lips and pushed Menena’s hips further down, then angled her hands and pulled her up again. The strained frown on the woman’s face dissolved into orgasmic bliss as her swollen clit parted the cleft of the mermaid’s long, taut outer lips and stroked through the many wrinkles of the fleshy inner labia. Menena quivered with delight until she sagged down on the younger woman. Anosthea embraced the voluptuous body with both arms and brought her lips to Menena’s ear.
“That’s what I’m here for. Another long hard taming of your evil side on the next new moon, then?”
Menena opened her eyes again. They sparkled with sensual greed as she replied, “Oh, I’m afraid I need to be punished much sooner than that, just for the things I’m thinking right now. How about … in three days?”
“That can be arranged.” Anosthea bit lightly into Menena’s earlobe and felt her pet’s excited shiver.
Thus ends the tale of how Menena found punishment, closure and redemption, not to mention a fuck buddy as sick and twisted as herself.
But what will become of Barbara and David? Stay tuned for the final episodes of the Siren Song as decades later, young Lilian the possessive barmaid butts heads with a blond girl arriving late at night at David’s inn and smithy …
Note: This information and the URLs are current as of November 2013.
Abridged version:
1) I like feedback. You like reading. You give feedback, I might write more stories. Deal?
2) Go there: http://overflowingbra.com/results.htm?varname=553
3) Look for title: “Siren Song Extended - Menena’s Comeuppance”
4) Press: “Rate me” (top left of corresponding story box).
5) “5” is like super-good. “1” is like “teh suxx.”
6) Instant feedback! Thanks a lot!
Not-so-abridged version:
Of course I don’t know where you’ve found this story you just finished reading, so bear with me for a few seconds.
I originally uploaded it to a rather obscure fetish website called The Overflowing Bra, and you can leave comments and rate stories there. I’d be delighted to receive your feedback about this tale of mine. Loved it? Hated it? Want more? Want less? Head on over to the listing of my stories and tell me all about it:
http://overflowingbra.com/results.htm?varname=553
That page contains the whole list of stories I uploaded to TOB so far, with the oldest at the top (ugh … you may not want to start there — or end there — or whatev’, but starting from and including “Temple Treat Part 3”, the complaints became significantly less) and the newest at the bottom. Please check that you’re targeting the right one when you send your comments. Yes, I do follow the comments for my older texts, too.
Note that at the Overflowing Bra, “5” means best. “1” means worst. Not the other way around. You also might want to make sure you’re rating/commenting at the right story page, too. Otherwise, things might get confusing. I’m just sayin’, is all. ;-)
If you’d like to ask me something, or if you want to stay on top of new stories I publish (not that often), here’s how: I post and also keep an eye on the TOB forum, and I started an “update/feedback” thread that’ll auto-notify me if you add to it:
http://www.overflowingforum.com/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=2195
All right, I guess I’ve bored you enough with my ego for now.