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  • Birthday 01/10/1994
  • Location Woodbridge, VA, USA

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  1. Chapter Sixty-Five It took me long enough to realize the half-giantess in the massive crystal ball wasn’t Cinder herself but merely her likeness – the most vivid likeness possible. I’d never seen anything like it: a perfect, almost life-size depiction of the woman, disturbed only by trails of mist still swirling-away within the magical orb. I’d heard of such magician’s tools before – crystal balls that could be used to spy on far corners of the world as if one were standing within arm’s reach of what they desired. To see it with my own eyes was as awe-inspiring as it was shocking: awe-inspiring for the vivid detail it showed of Cinder’s body; shocking for the fact that her body was half-naked! “A giantess,” the cult’s newest member named Khalid reached-out to the orb’s surface. “I’ve always wanted one…” his fingertips brushed against the orb’s glassy surface amidst more hacking, wheezing laughter from his peers. “She’s not in the ball, New Blood,” his sponsor, Crooked Hussein smiled. “And she’s only a half-giantess at that.” “Ah, don’t listen to him, boy,” Abdul pointed the tip of his hookah pipe at the image of Cinder. “You’ve got good taste asking for an apple-type. Been too long since we set eyes on this northern beauty.” “He likes them big,” Bashir chuckled smoke like a dragon. “Just like dear Sultan Ibrahim.” “Ha!” Abdul barked. “No one like them big as Ibrahim does!” More unruly laughter wafted into the rafters around me as well as intoxicating smoke. Holding a sneeze by plugging my nose made me realize I was sucking my stomach in. How long had I been doing that? Couldn’t keep that up – holding a sneeze trumped holding a stomach. The whole thing bulged-outwards like purple dough baking into a muffin. A verifiable gut pressed firmly against my pigskin. How big had it truly become? Only stripping would tell. In any case, if I didn’t escape tonight, it was only going to grow bigger. With such thoughts swirling in my mind, I settled into a deep yet comfortable crouch, did my best to ignore the bunching of my middle and sway of my pendulous breasts, and waited for the intelligence I sought to be revealed. Below me, the three acolytes observed the lustful men in their midst with professional satisfaction. Honeybun herself stepped forwards to better address the room. “The half-giantess pleases you, does she not?” she swept her arm grandiosely towards Cinder’s image. “What you are seeing is her very likeness as she is right now in this very moment as she rests blissfully in the Stuffer Dwellings in the jungle below us. As you can see, this apple is ripening nicely, with a round belly that touches her thighs as she curls-up in her sleep.” “That’s not the only part of her getting ripe,” Abdul’s ribs shook as he cackled. “Just look at the size of those tits!” said Bashir. “You could hide Abdul’s bald head in those!” “Indeed,” Honeybun replied coldly. “But as the New Blood, Khalid has learned, these fruits are forbidden to touch.” “And why’s that?” asked Khalid with surprising boldness. “Why keep these… fruits down in the jungle when they could be grown here in the Villa?” “I can tell ya that one, boy,” Abdul held a hand out to silence Honeybun. “C’mere, New Blood. Take a seat by me.” Khalid grew angry. “I was told by Hussein –” “You’re blocking the view, boy!” Abdul’s voice was suddenly loud and crips. “New Blood,” Hussein lay a gentle hand on his initiate’s shoulder. “Take a drag with the elders and listen. Be patient.” Khalid finding his mood burned and chilled by his elders like a sword tempered in a smithy, made his way to Abdul’s side on a patterned pillow. The bald, old oligarch extended his pipe to him, watched him sample the foul, strawberry-flavoured smoke, and proceeded to speak. “I’ll explain it all to you in terms you’ll understand – one enterprising oligarch to another,” Abdul paused to take a long drag of smoke himself. “You and me, we’re landowners – slavemasters. We got thousands of elves sworn to us, like cattle on a ranch.” “Or fruit on a plantation,” Bashir noted with a wink. “And we feed off their spoils,” Abdul pressed-on. “Building our wealth on passive income. Khalid, my boy… how fare your slaves? Do they defy you? Resist the whips and chains?” “Not anymore,” replied Khalid. “They know better now.” “Of course,” Abdul was smiling now. “All beings bend to slavery with enough force, but as their spirit breaks, so too, their will to work.” “What’s this have to do with the girls?” “The girls are slaves!” Abdul’s voice rose and sharpened briefly before returning to it’s hoarse, rasping tones. “But they don’t know it. Here, on this island, they believe themselves to be alone, unwatched, and free. That is the key! No fruit grows as sweet as wild fruit. Only the best are grown for Sultan Ibrahim.” “And they’ll grow quite quickly in such wild, fertile soil,” Bashir added. “Hussein,” Khalid was practically whining. “When will –" “Bah! Enough talk of fruits and slaves!” Bashir leaned eagerly towards the crystal ball. “I think we’ve seen enough of the halfbreed giantess too. I want to see that stableboy’s daughter again.” “Yes!” Hussein said from Khalid’s side. “Show us Victoria again!” Without hesitation, the acolytes chanted around the crystal ball with outstretched arms. Cinder’s image vanished in a swirl of mist, replaced with none other than Victoria laying in her hammock – along with Pixie and Lydia. “See? That’s what I’m talking about!” Hussein proclaimed amidst uproarious clapping and whistles. “You can always count on some girl-on-girl action from this one!” I stared dumbfounded on the sight of Victoria and the girls, none of which were sleeping. It looked as if Pixie and Lydia were trying to convince Victoria to strip her pigskin to the waist as she and Lydia had done – no doubt because of how humid it felt tonight. It also seemed that in the process, both Lydia and Pixie had become distracted by the sight of their softly-protruding bellies and were now inspecting them over Victoria’s face. “What a sight for old eyes,” Bashir’s eyes twitched as he squinted into the orb. “You sure do know where to find the pretty ones, Hussein… and speaking of which… that stableboy daughter’s eyes look rather familiar don’t they?” The old men chuckled at the sight of Hussein flustering before the image of the three girls. Behind him, it was clear Victoria had finally sat-up in her hammock to let her peers pry her pigskin loose. As she let the girls prod and probe her navel, she arched-back with a blissful sigh – and when she opened her eyes, I realized with a shock that they did, indeed, look familiar. “I will say once again,” Hussein voice was slow and level despite the laughter in the room. “I did not… have… sexual relations with that woman…” Victoria wasn’t royalty – she wasn’t even the daughter of a royal stablemaster – she was the bastard of Crooked Hussein.
  2. Chapter Sixty-Four A rustling of clinking metal carried through the spacious room behind Gnobbo, stopping her in her tracks. The little, backstabbing traitor who called herself Zat Tildywink glanced back over her shoulder with wide, startled eyes before hastily scrambling out of sight like the two-legged rodent she was. Gnobbo was gone – and I was free. Free-hanging, at least. I needed to climb inside before I was free-falling, clinking metals or not. So I hoisted myself through the window. It was easy enough, though my tits brushed heavily against the windowsill and my hips unexpectedly bumped the sides. After that, I blessed my luck for the position I found myself in, for I could see now that I’d entered an octagonal chamber from a high window. High wooden support beams ringed the chamber, surrounding a torchlit chandelier that was the source of the orange glow I’d spied from the jungle so far below. With steady footsteps, I balanced myself on the support beams and made my way inside. The floor below was a full storey drop and coated with stripes of blue and white mosaic tiles. The source of the clinking was coming from beyond a heavy wooden door – keys. Sure enough, the door opened and a woman entered the chamber. I was so astonished that I started swaying and had to adjust my footing to keep from falling on her – it was Honeybun! The very same nymph that had nursed me in her treehouse against my will! Yet there was something different about her. She wasn’t floating weightlessly across the floor, but rather walking as any mortal would. Her footsteps were heavy as a horse’s, and each stomp of her feet sent shockwaves through her body that jostled her ample breasts and had her ass cheeks wobbling. Such a subtle difference changed her whole demeanour, but there was a less subtle change as well: she was clothed. Just a two-piece silk outfit that covered breasts and groin, but no less shocking. Nymphs never wore clothes. I’d barely come to terms with what I was seeing when two other nymphs stormed into the room – at least, I still thought of them as nymphs considering their elaborate skin hues, one resembling water and the other resembling an orchid, but like the first, they were clothed and grounded. I was becoming more and more certain that they weren’t nymphs. “Hurry, sisters,” the woman I’d known as Honeybun called as she clomped across the chamber. “More guests are here!” “More?” asked what I could describe as the water nymph. “Why do they come now? We’ve never had more than three in one night.” “Don’t act like you don’t know,” Honeybun’s lofty accent she’d used with me was completely gone. “They’s already waiting in the Pleasure Room, so hustle!” As one, the three “sisters” rushed across the mosaic floor to a door opposite the first and exited the chamber. I trailed them closely, crossing the wooden beams and slipping through a window just above them. I could see now that the Villa was a complex of elaborate clay buildings roofed with terracotta tiling – upon which I carefully treaded across its spine where it was least likely to slide and send me falling down its slanted slopes. It was slow progress, but the path was short, and it wasn’t long before the sisters approached the two storey mansion that overshadowed the rest of the Villa from its perch on the cliffside’s ledge. As they slipped through the double doors below, so too did I slip through another open window above. But not before my fat rump bumped against the windowsill and dislodged it with a deafening clatter. As one, the sisters halted and stared upwards – only to find nothing, for I had hastily hid myself in a dark corner in the rafters, balancing atop two narrow, wooden beams. Curse my fat arse! That window should’ve had three inches of room to spare! If I could stop getting fatter for just one day, I could at least relearn the contours of my body! But furious as I was, I’d be a fool to act upon it. Now, I took slow, steady breaths, holding faith in the darkness to conceal me. I noticed myself clenching my stomach and let it go, feeling it bulge with slower, steadier breaths. My pounding heart calmed itself to a light thudding. I was safe. I was hidden. I was a professional. Sure enough, the sisters moved-onwards into the next room, and I followed from the rafters above. What I saw in the next room was so shocking, I nearly forgot to breathe. It was a wide, spacious room, lined with patterned rugs, plush cushions, and hookahs the likes of which could never be found beyond the royal palaces of Del Nazzour – or so I’d thought. A long, rectangular firepit filled with glowing coals toasted the air with coils of smoke that snaked lazily upwards into my peering eyes, making me tear-up as I struggled to glimpse details of artwork imported from the farthest corners of the world. Centred amidst such splendour was a massive crystal ball the size of a small wagon, a formless, cloudy mist gently swirling within. But the room’s peerless beauty paled in comparison to the rugged ugliness dwelling within it. There were men here – old men – and to my growing unease, I realized that I recognized them. One such old man was sitting cross-legged by a hookah amongst his elderly peers. He took a long drag from his pipe and eyed the three sisters entering their midst. “Ahh…” smoke trailed from his mouth and nostrils, half-masking his wrinkled, bearded face. “You’ve returned at last. We were getting bored without a good pair of tits to stare at.” “Greetings, lord,” Honeybun did not bow as she spoke the words. “Bah!” another old man jabbed the first in good jest. “He’s no lord! Just an oligarch grown rich on elven slaves given him by Ibrahim!” “Heh,” smoke billowed from the first man like volcanic steam. “Better an oligarch than a lord! I’m a self-made man!” The room erupted in fits of laughter and coughing, the wafting fumes spraying everywhere. A foul smell of burnt strawberries violated my nostrils and nearly had me gagging, but I remained firmly-still just above the pit of roasting coals. I’d been prepared to discover unusual secrets and endure great danger, but this… this was more than I could have ever imagined. The first old man was Abdul al-Bedoz, one of the Sultan’s favorite “self-made” oligarchs. He’d begun life as a simple librarian, but through his extensive knowledge of an endless supply of magical books and scrolls had somehow become one of the wealthiest men in the Sultanate, owning over a hundred plantations, mines, and logging camps, each filled with tens of thousands of elven slaves. I recognized his bald head the moment its gleam twinkled in my eye: smooth, waxed, and devoid of spots or blemishes. The second old man was Bashir Suleimani, an actual lord and Speaker of the Sultan’s Council of Advisors. Through his multiple contacts and insider knowledge, he’d strategically invested his modest wealth a hundred-fold – or rather his wife did, judging from his slow, demented speech and flickering left eye. In short, he was among the least corrupt lords in the Council. “Lords and gentlemen,” Honeybun spoke with the same false accent she’d used with me. “Welcome to the island of the nymphs – and to our returning guests: welcome back.” “That would be all of us,” a third man slapped the back of a fourth. “Except for my friend here. He’s new blood.” “I’d heard about this place,” the fourth man was clearly nervous, but feigned confidence. “Never seen nymphs before… I thought they were always naked.” “These aren’t nymphs!” said the third man. “They’re acolytes of our secret patron goddess. They wear clothes, sure enough – until you strip them!” Boistrous, wheezing laughter filled the room, followed by coughing fits. The men found his remarks humorous, but the nymphs – or rather, acolytes – remained stoically silent. “Be forewarned,” Honeybun spoke when the coughing died-down. “We acolytes are not to be touched.” “Unless you’re Hussein here,” Bashir pointed at the third man. “Eh, Hussein? Remember last month?” “I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” the third man replied sombrely amidst bemused chuckles. I stiffened from my high perch at the mention of his name. Hussein the Hopeful! Few people were unfamiliar with his suave demeanour and silver tongue. Fewer still were unfamiliar with the ghastly rumours. He’d used his wits and charm to gain lucrative positions in the Sultan’s court, but for all his outward kindness and empathy, none could ignore the numerous, mysterious deaths of whoever challenged his rise to power. In far corners and back alleyways, they whispered his other nickname: Crooked Hussein. But for all the wickedness surrounding her, Honeybun remained stoic and firm. She was facing the fourth man now, who stared briefly into her eyes before looking askance at the patterned rugs beneath him. “New blood for the All-Seeing goddess,” she stated. “What is your name?” “Khalid bin Mufti,” he stiffened. “Welcome, lord,” Honeybun still did not bow. “Who is your patron?” “I am,” said Hussein. “And what fruit do you desire?” Khalid paused briefly before answering. “Apples.” “Do you swear by the All-Seeing to forsake your old gods?” “Yes.” “Then gaze sombrely upon this Owl,” Honeybun gestured to an enormous mural of an owl covering one of the walls. “And whisper her name, else you kindle her wrath…” She whispered so softly, I couldn’t hear the name. Khalid followed suit. The silence in the room was ominous and sinister, the only sound being the sizzling coals reminiscent of the deepest of hells. Hence, it was a shock when Bashir clapped his hands with a resounding echo. “Splendid! Time to see those fruits you’ve been growing!” “Very well,” Honeybun glanced at her fellow acolytes in a wordless signal to begin the next ritual. As one, they gathered ‘round the massive crystal ball in the centre of the room, raised their hands, and began to chant. I stared down upon this ghoulish sight with eyes grown watery from scented smoke. A sense of unease was crawling through me like spiders down my spine. I knew not what I was witnessing, yet I couldn’t dislodge the growing suspicion that it was a great evil. All these men, lords and oligarchs all, gathered together and conspiring with false nymphs serving some demonic being hostile to all gods – just the smell of it sickened me. My dread mounted as the swirling murk within the crystal ball began to accelerate, slowly at first, then fast as hurricane winds. Its contents began to blur, then suddenly cleared to reveal a most horrifying scene. The old men leered with lecherous grunts and lustful laughter as the nymphs stepped back from their handiwork and turned to the newly-initiated Khalid. “Behold,” Honeybun proclaimed. “The very fruit you desire. Does she please you, lord?” I held a hand to my mouth to stifle a gasp and plug my nose from the intoxicating smoke. There, in the crystal ball, was Cinder.
  3. So like… recently I nearly fell for some speed dating scam, but it got me thinking. What if we (the natives of the DMV) all went out one of these weekends? We’d get to go restaurant and bar-hopping talking about all the things we love about thiccness we can’t share with others. Girls will eat and drink for free, of course.
  4. She literally lured her there just to drop her down the cliff. The teleportation to the Villa was the bait.
  5. Chapter 63 I quietly followed Gnobbo to the adjoining treehouse. We seemed to not rouse any suspicions (this wouldn’t be the first time Gnobbo was too scared to piss in the dark alone), but I was eager to finish our chat as much as she was. Gnobbo began the talk by leaping upon a chair and glowering at me with her arms folded. Perhaps she meant to assert dominance by boosting herself. Cute. “Did you forget our bargain?” she tapped her foot upon the chair’s wicker frame. “Of course not,” I took a seat on the chair across from her, its own frame creaking under the spread of my hips. For once, this latest sign of my ever-growing body pleased me, for it was far more intimidating than any act Gnobbo could muster – and I was still taller than her even as I slouched confidently. “We have precious little time – in case you haven’t noticed,” her eyes drifted toward the bulge on my middle. “We grow fatter by the day, and temptations seem to multiply left and right, accelerating our transformations into two-legged cattle. If we ever get out of here, it must be tonight.” Tonight, she said! I suddenly had doubts. Could I truly bear leaving so soon? I couldn’t leave Aniya behind. Perhaps a scouting mission was in order. “I never thought I’d see the day,” I smirked as I crossed one meaty thigh over the other. “Little Gnobbo finally getting some character growth. Perhaps we should take things slow… see how things develop…” “If those fat thighs of yours develop any more, you’ll get stuck in that chair.” “That’s…” I shifted myself and made the chair creak. “… an exaggeration. I still have a few inches to spare – and anyway, it would be wise to scout ahead before attempting an escape. You haven’t mentioned how you’ll get us up into the Villa.” “Ha! Not by squeezing through spaces or rope pulleys,” Gnobbo tittered. “You’ve grown too plump for that.” “I’m not –” “We gnomes have our ways, and likewise none can match goblin cleverness. You shall see in due time.” “Which is now, correct?” “Nyeh!” Gnobbo tossed a pillow in my direction. “We must wait till the others are asleep. Lie in wait for me, curl and tangle with your mates as usual, but be sure to sleep on top! We must slip away unnoticed.” “Good,” I rose to my feet. “Can’t wait to see this ‘goblin cleverness’ you speak of. I’ll see you soon.” Gnobbo said nothing as I left the room. Sleeping on top was easier said than done – especially in a hammock. Victoria didn’t hesitate to point-out how bone-crushingly huge my “plump” 6’8” frame was compared to hers, and was hesitant to try surviving under such a “strain.” Aniya, however, was eager to try the new position, consoling her and telling her it would be like sleeping under a weighted blanket as she gently nudged her into the hammock. As I slipped myself over the two girls, Aniya gave me a knowing wink. Did she sense my ulterior motive? My suspicions were further roused when she brushed my cheek with the back of a single finger – the finger inscribed with her Scorpion Order tattoo. “It’s good to let others try new ideas,” she cooed. “Especially when you run out of your own – right Zaiva?” “Yes,” I nodded slowly. “I’m pleased you think so.” That settled it in my mind. Aniya knew I was scheming, but couldn’t discuss it openly with Victoria sharing the hammock with us. All for the best. I could share my findings with her when I returned – if I returned. The Moon was shining its silvery light through the room when I heard the door creak ajar. The sound was muffled yet deafening to my restless ears. I felt as if I’d been staring at the glowing ceiling moss half the night already, and I’d never been more pleased for Gnobbo’s arrival. I could hear the gnome-goblin’s little feet pattering to the hammock even as I was easing myself out of it. “Up,” her whisper was more a snake’s hiss than a mouse’s squeak. “Ah – watch it… you over-ripe eggplant.” “Hush,” I’d have put a finger to her lips, but settled with using the tip of my foot. “Git your nasty toe-sausages out of my face…” “Hush,” I cautiously eyed the two remaining girls in the hammock as I released my hold of it. Victoria seemed to stir restlessly but quickly calmed when Aniya gently rolled herself on top of her. Sound asleep. “Let’s go,” I whispered. With that, we left the comfort of the hammock room and stepped-out into the humid night. “How much farther?” I asked bitterly. Gnobbo idly kicked her stubby legs against my shoulder blades from her perch around my neck. “March onwards my hefty horse! Take me closer to the mountain’s cliff-face where we can glimpse the Villa.” “Horse?” I scoffed. “Smart talk from a smart ass.” “Yes, I am smart,” said Gnobbo proudly. “It was I who suggested riding you. It’s saved us valuable time, hasn’t it? Or would you rather put me down and we go at my pace?” “On second thought, throwing you would be quicker.” “Halt!” Gnobbo squeezed her thighs against my neck. “I’ve spotted the Villa through the trees – there! See that orange glow? There’s torchlight aflicker in the windows.” “So it is,” I craned my neck to follow the direction of her quivering fingertip. “It’s probably a quarter mile to the cliffside’s edge, though climbing it adds another quarter mile –” “Halt! I said halt, I say!” Gnobbo smacked the top of my head. “Dull dotard of a drow… take a step back. Get the Villa back into view.” “We’re wasting Moonlight here. Enough games.” “I said back! Yes, that’s it. Gaze upon the flickering flame, and watch it closely. You are watching it, aren’t you?” “Wouldn’t it be better if you just told me what you’re doing?” “Bleh! Gnomes never divulge their secrets! Now focus on the flame in that window. Look closely at its clay frame, and be prepared to grab its ledge!” “What in hells are you talking –” Pop. I barely had time to realize the transition. In one moment, I was standing on the grassy jungle undergrowth peering at some distant orange light, and in the next, I was right before that light hundreds of meters above the ground – and I was about to fall! “Fuck!” I couldn’t help but cry-out as I snatched at the window’s ledge. My fingers gripped its far corner – yes – and though gravity had me faceplanting into the wall below it, my legs braced against it as well. A lifetime’s-worth of training had me recovering in an instant, but months-worth of gorging slowed me down. Belly-fat bunched into tight, heaving rolls around my midsection, and my thighs were quivering like jelly. I needed a brief pause to recover my wits (and breath). It was at this time that Gnobbo chose to leap for the window. “Fuck,” I snarled again as she used my face as a springboard. “Watch it, mutt!” Gnobbo tittered mischievously from her new perch in the windowsill. “Fool. I never needed your help at all!” “By what evil gods are you –” She stomped a foot into my hand and I nearly lost my grip. “This is where we part ways, my overly-ripe plum, for none can witness the secret magic of the gnomes and live!” “Gnobbo!” I seethed. “By Vul, when I get in this window, I’m tossing you out of it!” “Oh, a devotee of Vul, are you? Typical drow. When you met your scorpion god, tell it Zat Tildywink, last daughter of the Gnomic Royals and Queen of the Goblin Thieves sent you!” “You’re just a homeless mutt.” “Ah! Not after I steal the Sultan’s royal treasury from under his nose!” she leaned forward, grinning with all the pride and mischief she could muster. “After that, all shall say… long live the queen…” She rose to her full height, raised her foot to strike…
  6. Chapter Sixty-Two Bobette crept towards the fuzzy, quivering ball Quiet One had become with tentative yet curious steps. There was a dead silence amidst us – the bystanders of this unlikely turn of events – broken only by the chorus of night frogs outside and Quiet One’s muffled sobs. When Bobette reached the half-cat’s side, her lips pursed and she flexed her fingers by her sides as if she were holding herself back from some unspoken impulse – an impulse that couldn’t easily be restrained judging from the gleam in her wide, wondering eyes. She eventually compromised with her urges by speaking softly. “Quiet One? Can you still talk?” “Don’t look at me!” Quiet One tightened herself further, rejecting the world beyond. Bobette, however, was emboldened by the proof that Quiet One had retained her wits. “A-are you hurt? What happened to you?” “Lunacy,” Victoria replied without being asked. “Moonlight magic. One of the most dangerous schools as well.” “Vicky!” Bobette set her hands on her hips. “Don’t say that about poor Quiet One.” “It’s not my fault,” Quiet One sniffed. “What happened, Quiet One?” Bobette was now leaning into the hammock with bated breath. “You can tell us.” She motioned as if to say something, but all that came out was a tormented wail. “Don’t cry,” Bobette slowly reached a hand out and lay it upon Quiet One’s furred-head. “What’s wrong?” “She said… Zaiva said… she’s going to kill me!” All eyes turned to me. I had backed myself into a corner and readied for a fight to the death, but now I was suddenly out of my element. Now I seemed the true coward, shrinking away from the harmless little fuzzball I’d nearly duelled. They all looked upon me with stern judgements set in their eyes, and suddenly I was furious. “You left me in here!” I pointed madly. “Every single one of you! You turned and ran at the first sign of danger and then shut the door and left me behind with a feral –” “I thought you’d made it out with us,” Pixie stammered dumbly. “You should be thanking me!” I bellowed. “I was about to fight for y’all – again!” “Um,” Pixie said after a brief yet awkward pause. “When was the first time?” “When I fought Lesh in the swamp!” “Oh…” All through my tirade, Quiet One was distraught with weeping. Bobette was now coddling her head with both hands while cooing into her ear. “You’re alright. You’re not a monster; you’re my precious angel – and Zaiva won’t hurt you. Right Zaiva?” “Huh?” still fuming, her query took me by surprise. “You promise that you won’t hurt poor Quiet One?” “Uh…” I felt everyone judging me again. “Yeah, sure… so long as she doesn’t bite or scratch.” “And she won’t bite or scratch,” Bobette cooed. “Because she isn’t a monster. She’s Quiet One and she’s beautiful.” “I’m not beautiful,” muttered Quiet One. “But… of course you’re beautiful.” “I’m not,” Quiet One had stopped crying, but was still sniffling. “It’s a curse. I was cursed.” Bobette scratched behind one of Quiet One’s rounded ears. “Who cursed you?” “I don’t know… it happened when I was very young. My parents angered one of the tribal elders and the old hag, she… she cursed my mother and made all her children turn into beasts under the moonlight so that we could never make love and marry…” From beyond the open door, Cinder’s eyes kindled with recognition. “I huwrd the human twibes in the nowrth cuwrse each othur.” “Yes,” Victoria nodded. “They’re all lunatics.” “But I don’t think you’re a beast,” insisted Bobette. “You’re a cat, and you’re just the most adorable thing.” “You’re just saying that. No one wants me.” “Quiet One… can you look at me?” Quiet One shook her head, but didn’t resist when Bobette slowly pried her head from her foetal position. She held her feline head before herself, staring deep into the slitted, golden eyes. A slight adjustment of her hands over the fuzzy cheeks had the whiskers twitching, yet Quiet One didn’t recoil. “It’s so smooth and white,” Bobette said as she rubbed the fur in her palms. “And it has these broken black ring-spots too.” “Like a snow leopuwrd,” said Cinder. “A snow leopard?” Bobette patted Quiet One’s shoulders without looking away. “A vewry big cat,” Cinder replied. “I saw some in the mountains whewr I come fwom.” “A big cat!” Bobette wrapped Quiet One into a tight hug. “Oh, I love big cats!” “You…” Quiet One trembled within Bobette’s arms. “You like big cats?” “I love them,” Bobette nestled her head into the cat-girl’s furry neck. “I love you, Quiet One!” “Basschin.” “Huh?” “My name… is Basschin.” With that, Basschin’s limbs slowly loosened and her shoulders slackened. She hesitated for a moment, and then – closing her eyes – she hugged Bobette in return. As for the rest of us, we stood dumbfounded at the bizarre spectacle – a human girl embraching a feline one. There was something precious about the moment that kept us from daring to speak – much less move. Only Bobette moved as she gently-slipped into the hammock and wrapped herself against Basschin’s furred body. It seemed she was fulfilling a dream come true, her every move wrought with determined, passionate purpose. As for Basschin… our Quiet One wasn’t quiet anymore. She was purring – perhaps for the first time in her life. I was finally freed from the entrancing moment when I felt a hand wrap itself around my own. Startled, I turned to find Aniya smiling up at me. She squeezed my hand harder and winked. I couldn’t help but smile back. Then I felt my other hand being tugged rudely downwards. My smile vanished as quickly as it had come as I turned to find Gnobbo pulling at my hand and pointing towards the door. “Ahem?” the mutt glared expectantly at me. I sighed and turned to Aniya again. “A moment,” I whispered with a kiss on her forehead. The blissful moment was over. Not it was time to return to business.
  7. It's not out of the question. Should require trial and effort.
  8. Chapter Sixty-One We never found the coconut crabs’ hidden lair, though I had my doubts anyone knew how to cook one if we had. Nevertheless, we spent as much time eating as we did searching: fresh-water mussels and salt-water clams, massive oysters, a single hermit crab (snatched and hastily-devoured by Gnobbo), and an endless supply of fruits, all of it served to sate our bottomless hunger throughout the day. It was nearly sunset and we were losing hope of finding an albino crab when Cinder spotted for us an appropriate substitute: albino coconuts. With some shaking and cracking, we were soon ready to sip the milk within. “How’s it taste?” asked Victoria, wary of anything new. Bobette was the first to take a sip, as expected. “It’s really white and… clumpy,” she replied with a smack of her lips. “I noticed,” Victoria sniffed at the hole in her coconut and winced. “Zaiva, are you certain this is suitable to drink?” Instead of answering, I sipped thoughtfully while staring at the orange sun setting into the sea. “You’re accent is back,” I finally replied. “Accent? Whatever do you mean? I do not –” “When we arrived here together, you spoke normally. Now you use fancy pish-posh words.” “What utter nonsense! I’ve always spoken as such – as one would expect from a noble.” “More like a stablemaster’s daughter pretending to be a noble. Yes… I think I see what’s going on now.” “That’s royal stablemaster to you, you –” “Vicky,” Aniya patted her shoulder. “Try the coconut milk. It’s real good.” Victoria was still miffed, by she obliged. One sip had her eyes widening with delight and she sipped thricemore before speaking. “It’s divine,” she proclaimed with the coconut held high overhead in toast. “Simply marvelous! It’s as smooth as it is sweet, and I notice… a tingling aftertaste. I can feel my insides fizzing and bubbling. Could this be the effect of albino food? Either way, I prefer this milk to… um, to cow milk…” I caught Victoria glancing my way before blushing and I knew all too well why. Just the mere mention of the word “milk” was enough to get my nips bristling. I stared down at the as discreetly as I could. They’d been sucked dry the night before, but the nipples remained ominously-perked. Would they refill? Was my constant gorging refilling them even now? All I cold discern were subtle veins spidering across the purple skin. Only time would tell if they refilled, and if that happened… Well, no one else must learn of my shame. My thoughts were interrupted by two dark arms wrapping around my waist. I started with surprise, only to relax as I recognized the arms as belonging to Aniya. “What a day, huh Zaiv?” Aniya’s lips teased my left ear and made it flick. “A day of nothing,” I sighed. “We didn’t even find that coconut crab.” “I think we made the most of it.” I felt her lips stretch into a smile as her hands moved to fondle my newly-plush middle. “My big drow girlfriend’s been eating good, hasn’t she?” I knew the remark was meant to rile me as much as compliment. I felt my blood boiling and wished nothing more than to slap her hands away and chide her on the spot, yet I couldn’t show weakness in front of the others. She knew this – damn her! But two could play at this game. “You’re one to talk, fatass,” I smiled. “You probably haven’t noticed your rump growing wider since it’s behind you. Since we reunited on this island, I’ve watched it grow an inch a day – two inches last night.” “Oh?” her hands groped tighter to make my fat bunch in her fists. “You’ve been watching my ass?” “It grows fuller and rounder – nearly the size of an ass’s ass now. Keep it up and I’ll start riding you.” Aniya chuckled from deep in her throat as she leaned closer, her soft breasts lightly-pressing against my back. “You keep it up… and you might grow to like this.” She nearly kissed my cheek when Victoria stood before us with her arms folded. “Are you quite finished? Why don’t we continue this at the treehouse? We’re nearly there and the sun’s setting.” “So it is,” said Aniya. “Come on, Zaiva.” “Shouldn’t you release me?” “Nuh… all this talk has given me an idea. Giddy-up, Zaiv. I’m riding you home.” Before I could protest, her legs wrapped around my waist. I sighed and rose to my feet, the not-so-little dark elf balancing atop the flexing bulges of my cheeks. To my surprise, Cinder was able to cross the rope-bridge without stopping (though she insisted on holding Pixie’s hand the whole way). It seemed she’d overcome her fear – only for Quiet One to succumb to her own. I could hear the so-called Quiet One’s screams and snarls before I even stepped on the bridge’s creaking driftwood, and by the time I was in the treehouse, I could hear her thrashing as if she were trying to force her way out of her hammock. This proved true, for as I and the other girls peered-in to investigate, we found Lydia and Seerah trying their best to pin the injured girl down by her wrists and ankles. “Please, Quiet One,” begged Lyida. “Settle down. Your ankle needs rest.” “Why are you doing this?” asked Seerah. “We tried everything…” I stepped into the room. “What’s going on?” “Wat happun in thewre?” asked Cinder as she struggled to crouch low enough to see through the door past everyone’s heads. Lydia glanced only briefly back at us before returning to restraining her patient. “She’s having a fit is what,” she grunted. “Can barely… hold her still anymore.” “We tried to ask her what’s wrong, but she won’t say,” Seerah explained. “Maybe she needs to pee,” Pixie offered. “No…” All paused, for Quiet One was finally speaking. “What did she say?” Victoria asked. Quiet One used the moment to break her arms free. She reached for us – or rather, the door – but as her arm stretched-out for freedom, I caught sight of her eyes… her round, golden eyes wide with fright… round, slitted, golden eyes… They were the same eyes that had stared at me from outside the night before. Suddenly, I realized why Quiet One had been on the roof in the first place. “By the gods!” I gasped. “She’s about to turn!” “Turn what?” asked Pixie cluelessly. Quiet One’s fingertips pricked with retractable claws. An anguished, mewling snarl emitted from deep within her throat as her gritted teeth lengthened into fangs. Only now did the others in the room realize their perilous situation. “Beast!” Lydia squeaked as she released her hold. “Monster!” “Run away!” cried Pixie. As one, the girls routed from the rapidly-transforming girl. I was the only one who held steadfast, but it did me no good against a panicked mob rushing for the door. A headbutt from Bobette against my belly and a passionate shove by Victoria sent me stumbling against the wall with a dispassionate oomph. Next thing I knew, I was sitting stunned with a feral beast of a woman – and someone had slammed the door shut! The cowards! Yet I did not falter. Now it was just the two of us: me versus the Quiet Lunatic – an assassin matched against a deranged animal – and I couldn’t help but grin. This was a game I was all too familiar with! “Alright beast,” I rose to a low crouch arms ready for a fight. “Show me what you got – c’mon!” But Quiet One was too busy changing to reply. Thick, white fur spread across her body from her toes to her fingertips, ears grew upward into soft, rounded semicircles, and even her face shifted in shape as her nose became a blunted snout with whiskers. The final phase of her transformation was a splotching of black spots followed by a long tail sweeping free of her pigskin behind her. I responded by positioning myself into the corner, readying to wrestle the beast like I had countless opponents in the training field throughout my deadly career. “C’mon Quiet One!” I pounded the wall to assert dominance. “Try me! Just fucking do it! I’ll show you how I killed –” Quiet One started bawling her eyes out. “What in hells...” Too shocked to react, I watched as the half-beast’s face streamed with tears. She covered her face in shame, curling her body into as small of a ball as she could and wept into her paws. “What are you doing?” I whispered, utterly stunned. “Don’t look at me!” her voice was muffled. The weeping continued without end. Quiet One curled her new tail around herself, and her body shook with every gasp and sniff. Slowly, the door creaked open, the rest of the girls peering cautiously-in. Bobette was the first to find the courage to speak. “Look,” she tiptoed into the room with awe. “She’s a cat…”
  9. Chapter Sixty Inevitably, our aimless wanderings brought us back to the white, sandy beaches where our latest misadventure had begun. There, we found no sign of the albino fruits, but instead reunited with six more starters turned stuffers. The burstings were clearly occurring at rapid pace now, and they reported only thirty-three starters remained at the Resort. They were perplexed and not a little annoyed that Gnobbo had somehow beat them to the island, and their ceaseless interrogation of the mutt made it practically impossible for me to speak with her in private. So it was that I passed the time with our party’s common goal: the quest for the albino coconut crab. It was a foolhardy quest as far as I was concerned, but after being stuffed and immobile for so long, any excuse to move was coveted. I was finally free again – but not from prying eyes and idle tongues. I was kicking against the ebbing waves of the beach when one such tongue began harassing me from behind. “You look good, Zaiva.” I ignored the voice by absentmindedly bending-down to grab a large seashell, but as I did, I could feel myself being watched. I looked past my haunches and found Pixie just behind, copying my idle search for shells. “So I look good to you, huh?” I said coldly. “I’m as surprised as you are,” she shot back with a glint of mischief in her eye. “Back when we were starters, you didn’t seem keen on gorging and packing-on weight. Some of us even thought you’d be the second of us to quit.” “Really?” I smiled in spite of my attempts to look bitter. “And who was thought to be the first?” Pixie glanced casually back toward the edge of the lapping waves where Gnobbo was skittering away from anything that could moisten her ankles. “I shouldn’t have asked,” I shook my head. “But really, I just want you to know you’ve really turned a new leaf.” “Leaf?” “Like… I’m not good at saying these things, but… maybe ‘blossomed’ is a better word?” “Actually, ‘leaf’ is fine.’ “You’ve really started to fill-out these last few days.” I glanced down towards my ample, cantaloupe-sized breasts and grit my teeth. “I’ve noticed.” “you were one of the leanest of us, but your silhouette is definitely getting wider – especially your hips…” “I said I’ve noticed!” Pixie froze, but only long enough to rephrase herself. “It’s just… you used to hate anything to do with us, but lately you’ve been so helpful. You handled that nymph so we didn’t have to, you got Quiet One off the roof, and… I look up to you, is all…” We were facing each other now: two stuffers on the brink of chubbiness calf-deep in the sweeping froth of the blue sea. “Are you sure I should be your role model?” I stepped forward, so tall my breasts overshadowed her head and nearly brushed against it. I hoped she’d be cowed enough to drop the subject. Instead, I found her eyes peeking beyond the crest of my chest at me. “C-can you teach me?” “Teach what?” “How to fatten-up so fast! You’re visibly-bigger than yesterday. You used to have a small pooch below your navel, but now your whole belly’s starting to puff-out –” I splashed her face with salty water. “No touching! We have a crab to catch.” Peace and quiet was had, but only briefly. Pixie never left my side, and every time I bent-low to search the waves, I caught her ogling the bulge of my pooch as it bunched into rolls. Rolls! I had rolls now! Curse that nymph nectar! My pigskin still covered the front, but they were visible on my sides for the first time. I had to resist inspecting them – not just because I didn’t want to touch them, but also because I didn’t want to draw more attention from Pixie than I was already. “I bet the nymph did it,” Pixie blurted. “You think?” I snapped. “She stuffed me like a tick! It’s a wonder I haven’t burst again.” There was a short pause before she quietly followed-up her question. “Did it hurt?” It hadn’t. Worse, it was pleasant – pleasant as pissing, anyway. “No. That nymph’s magic held me together… stretched my stomach out… but make no mistake: it was a punishment and I’m not keen on doing it again.” “Well,” Pixie swished her legs through the waves. “How about next time we meet a nymph, we make sure I’m the one punished?” “Deal,” I sighed. “Now, back to crabbing.” Peace and quiet was had once more. This time, it lasted longer and I began looking for a way to have a private conversation with Gnobbo. Yet try as I might, the opportunity never came. I couldn’t simply tap her shoulder and take her over some sand dune – that would rouse suspicion amongst nearly two dozen gossiping girls. I needed a proper excuse – and hopefully more privacy than sand dunes. As fortune would have it, I got my chance at noon as our group was crossing a lagoon splitting the beach in two. We were all in progress of crossing the murky, waist-deep water when Bobette cried-out and dunked beneath the frothing brine. We all paused to look where she’d been. I briefly thought she’d slipped on some smooth rock, but she emerged grinning and giggling in no time – hugging a cragged-legged monstrosity close to her chest like it were a long-lost stuffed toy. “I found it!” she cried. “Look! I found the albino coconut crab!” The girls gathered ‘round, but kept their distance from the clawed thing. Victoria was the first to get close, leaning forward for a keen look at its bleached features. “Is it quite dead?” the woman asked with faux class. “I do believe… this is just the shell that was shed.” “Shed?” Bobette asked innocently. “Oh, I’ve heard of this!” Pixie remarked. “The crabs shed their skin when they grow too big – just like us, come to think.” “Zaiva, is that true?” asked Bobette. “You always seem to know the most about exotic critters.” “I do?” I tried to act casual while mentally noting to myself to hide my skills more carefully. “Not really – you just travel more when you’re homeless.” “But do crabs shed their skins?” “Uh…” I was about to mention to her that she was literally holding the evidence of such when an annoying screech sounded from whence we’d come. I didn’t even have to look: of course it was Gnobbo! The water-fearing cretin had refused to cross the lagoon unless Cinder carried her, but the half-giantess had entered the lagoon for a closer look at Bobette’s find, leaving Gnobbo behind – with the seagulls. Seagulls! Rats of the skies! They were a nuisance to anyone more than two feet tall – that is, everyone except Gnobbo, whomst they inspired terror and panic. It seemed the winged rats had set their sights on something edible in her hand. On the whole, it was a most amusing sight, but I had no time to lose. “I’ll get her!” I called loudly as I waded ashore. “Gnobbo! They want that treat! Throw it away!” Of course, I didn’t mean for her to do any such thing. She was a devious, mischievous creature, and her mind was as surprisingly keen as her stubby legs were fast. Indeed, she took hold of my meaning immediately and made a show of refusing to drop the thing in her hands while running ever further out of sight of the girls in the lagoon. “What a greedy gnome-goblin!” Victoria remarked, amidst nods of agreement. I merely smiled, for my ploy was working. “Keep looking for crabs, “ I called. “I’ll bring her back…” Now I was free of the others and I jogged casually over the dune with sea water dripping down my thighs and elbows. I found Gnobbo awaiting for me with her hands on her hips, the treat and seagulls gone and casually forgotten. “Clever trick,” I said as I jogged to her side. “Trick?” she sneered from knee height. “That was a perfectly-good fruit!” “Oh?” I crouched by her side. “Perhaps I gave you too much credit.” “Don’t be condescending with me!” the rage squeaking through her was strangely amusing. “It’s your fault that I burst this accursed pigskin!” “Truly? I’m flattered. I didn’t know you were so attracted to me.” “That’s not how it works! You crushed me and the pressure of your fat drow ass squeezed me out!” “Did it feel good, then?” “No, it didn’t. Ooh, this is bad! I am the Queen of Thieves, no door can stop me in the midnight hour! When the Moon is full, I am the one who knocks!” “The Moon seems to be waxing full ahead of schedule,” I smirked. “No! I will not wax full! I refuse! I have my own priorities here.” “That makes two of us. Don’t tell me you forgot our deal?” “Deal? Why should I honour our deal? Look what you’ve done to me!” “Burst you out of your pigskin so you can remove it at will?” being answered with stunned silence, I pressed-on. “You haven’t even grown much – if at all – but it seems we have a common goal: we want to get off this island, yes? So you’ll take me to the Villa as promised – or has the so-called Queen of Thieves grown too wide for the job?” “I have not –” “You can’t escape alone, else you’d have done it. Bring me, or I start getting creative…” “Creative? You? Don’t make me laugh – but yes. I’ll take you to the Villa – tonight.” “Tonight,” I held a hand out. “Now shake on it.” Gnobbo didn’t place her hand within my palm as expected, opting instead with patting the top of my hand. I responded by scooping her up. “Ey, what are you –” she quickly assumed her schmuck accent. “Down! Put down!” “Well, look who I found!” I yelled as I crested the dune with squirming mutt high over my head. When the others saw us, they showed various emotions of relief and joy. Gnobbo, however, began thrashing at the sight of the murky lagoon. “No wet! No wet!” “Yes,” I grinned. “It is very wet, isn’t it?” “No! No, no, no! No bath! Oath! Oath!” “Oath?” I chuckled. “You need big words to say an oath. Can you use big words?” “Rrgh! Hate! Hate!” “What a hothead! Why don’t you cool down a bit…” With a mighty shriek, Gnobbo plunged into the lagoon with a mighty splash.
  10. Chapter Fifty-Nine We left the hammock with hesitant, unsteady legs – what with Victoria and Aniya exploring their accentuated curves and myself realizing my haunches had become numb under their ample weights – but as soon as I’d pulled my pigskin back into place and shook some sense into my rump, we opened the door and joined Pixie and Bobette. The two girls breathlessly took us to the driftwood rope-bridge where the rest of the girls had stood themselves, craning their necks toward the roof of the treehouse we’d just left. “Zaiva,” Cinder smiled faintly from just beyond the rope-bridge, her fear of heights readily-apparent. “Yowr bettur?” I saw that she was eyeing my deflated belly and shrugged. “Better,” I replied. “Though last night was very draining – sucked the life out of me.” “We’re glad you’re alright, Zaiva!” Seerah clapped as we approached her on the bridge. As Aniya got closer to her, the high elf’s joy gave way to curiosity. “Aniya? Did something happen? You look different somehow.” “It’s her butt!” Bobette pointed. “Her butt’s bigger!” “Hey!” Lydia stomped her foot so hard against the rope-bridge that it formed waves. “Stop looking at her butt! Look up there instead!” She pointed back whence we came and upwards. There, amongst the tightly-thatched roof of palm trees, lay Quiet One, curled frightfully into the tightest ball she could make herself. I shook my head with disbelief. “So she finally came back,” I squinted, for the sun’s rays were shining through the fluttering canopy leaves. “How did she get up there?” “She won’t tell us,” said Bobette. “She won’t tell us anything.” “Even Gnobbo talks more than Quiet One,” added Pixie. “Bitch!” Gnobbo popped her head from behind Cinder’s crouched thigh. “Gnobbo,” Seerah put her hands on her hips. “That was very rude!” Gnobbo didn’t answer, but her eyes widened and she gripped Cinder’s thigh tightly. “Well,” I gripped the ropes of the bridge and leaned confidently back, revelling in the excuse to use my back muscles for the first time since the nymph incident. “Ahh, that feels good… I can see a simple solution to this. Cinder just needs to stand before the house and carry Quiet One back down.” “We actually tried that,” said Pixie. “Cinder stood there by the roof and tried to coax her down, but she wouldn’t budge.” “I think she’s scawred of heights,” offered Cinder. “Figures,” I grumbled. “Lemme guess: you want me to climb up there and fetch her?” At this, Seerah patted my back. “You can do it! You’re our best climber – that’s how you got down that cliff to save Aniya from the swamp yesterday, isn’t it?” “Cinder could lift you up too,” said Pixie. “We’d have gone already, but… you’re definitely better with heights.” “And Cinder’s too big to climb,” added Bobette. “Fine,” I released my hold of the ropes and twisted my torso left and right. “Been too long since I had a decent workout. Ready Cinder?” “Weady,” Cinder replied. The half-giantess crouched upon one knee with her hands low to the ground. I approached thinking she meant to boost me from underfoot. Instead, she gripped my waist and hoisted me to the roof so suddenly that I squawked briefly. “Watch it!” I lowered my voice and hoped none had noticed my brief moment of shame. “I’m a drow, not a flour sack – no, don’t put me down! Let me on the roof. Giant dotard…” My feet were firmly planted upon the roof at last. A mesh of netting lay just beneath the palm leaves, but I dared not trust it with my full weight. No doubt it was meant to support the hanging moss that lit our rooms at night, but nothing more. Regardless, Quiet One lay quivering three arm-spans away. I’d have to feel-out for the support beams with carefully-placed steps so I wouldn’t crash through the roof. “Ahem,” I cleared my throat as I took my first tentative step towards my target. “Fancy seeing you here, Quiet One.” She quailed at the sight of me, recoiling as far back as she dared. It vexed me, but I knew I couldn’t lose my temper this time – not with everyone watching. I’d have to depend on my weaker skills: negotiation and persuation. “Now I know we had a bit of a falling-through…” the roof creaked ominously, fate itself mocking me. “But let’s say you didn’t know better when you snitched me. You won’t do it again, right?” Quiet One shook her head, then panicked and nodded. “Yes? No? Speak up, Quiet One! Use words!” “You’re scaring her, Zaiva!” Seerah called from just below. “You should speak quiet to Quiet One!” Pixie chimed-in. “Quiet! Quiet!” Gnobbo hopped excitedly. “Everyone shut up!” I turned and roared at them. “I’m sorry!” said a voice. I turned back towards the voice. Quiet One was staring at me. “What did you say?” “I’m sorry,” Quiet One muttered. “I was scared… won’t… won’t do it again…” “It’s settled, then,” I replied cooly. “Come on. Cinder’s waiting for us. Let’s –” The roof caved the moment our hands reached for one another. Together we fell into the room upon the hard, wooden table. Fortunately, I was unhurt. Unfortunately, it was because Quiet One broke my fall. Quiet One’s ankle was bruised and swollen by my falling bulk. We had no apothecaries amongst us, but Seerah and Lydia were familiar with the traditional treatments of high-elven kind, and after close inspection and much doting and cooing noises, proclaimed that Quiet One would need to rest a couple days before walking again. They offered to stay by her side and nurse her to health while the rest of us foraged for food. This suited me well, for I doubted Quiet One would want to see my face ever again. How strange it was that Quiet One was so distraught at being laid to rest on a hammock for the day. She thrashed and yelled fitfully, pointing madly at the nearest window while her elven caretakers did their best to calm her. It seemed so out of character for someone so meek, yet still I cared not. The undiscovered wonders of the island beckoned, and I had business to discuss with a certain gnome-goblin mutt.
  11. I was literally thinking about this earlier today, so it's good that you answered back. It's the kind of question hard to google.
  12. Chapter Fifty-Eight The situation I found myself in was so unexpected – so unfathomably insane – that I hadn’t the slightest notion how to react. I was being nursed by none other than a fellow Scorpion agent and unless I wanted the whole island awakened, I could naught but lay back and let her! Even now, countless moments later, the misleadingly innocent-looking dark elf was slurping noiselessly away like a newborn calf drinking for the first time in its life. Each flex of her nimble tongue – each press of her lips and twitch of her body – tested my ability to maintain my lax composure. This was unlike any challenge I’d ever endured. I’d fought breathlessly beneath the waves, fought scores of dwarven pikemen, been poisoned, singed, and even had the patience to lay still two days and nights for my kill to cross my path, but never in my life had I expected to be milked. Now instead of having the dignity of facing mortal danger and defying fate itself, I now had to bite my tongue and stiffen myself for fear of making a sound. Not since I cowered amidst the rocks as I watched my parents’ manor razed had I been so humiliated – except this was somehow worse! And as my mind swirled mercilessly with such thoughts, Aniya’s teeth pricked greedily against my tender nip, and the shock of it loosed a startled gasp from my lips. Curses upon the dark elf! I could feel Victoria stirring at my side already! “Hnn…” the clueless human girl stretched and twisted herself with a lazy yawn. “Is it daytime already? What is…” she grew silent when she saw Aniya attached to me like a leech. “What in the world are you two doing?” Aniya arched away from me with a gasp of refreshment (the nerve of her!). “Ahh… oh, good morning Vicky… uh, is there something on my face?” “Y-you… you…” “Shh… you’ll wake the others,” Aniya lay a comforting hand across her shoulder. “So I got some bad news and some good news.” “Good news? Why do I feel as if that’s bad news too?” “Aight… good news,” Aniya stressed the notion as much as possible. “I found that milk the table mentioned. And uh… bad news is it’s not goatmilk.” “I have so many questions!” Victoria glanced with horror between Aniya’s keenly-glowing eyes and my milk-beading nips. “How? Why? What in –” “Good questions,” Aniya cupped her mouth with her hand. “But try and keep it down, girl. We don’t wanna wake the others – just think what they’ll do if they see what you’ve done.” Victoria yanked the hand off her mouth. “Are you blackmailing me?” “Naw, I’m just letting you know what they’d assume. Anyway, that nymph messed Zaiva up good, see, and we gotta help drain her.” “You can’t possibly be serious.” “Hey… I was born in the country and I’ve been around a farm or two. Zaiva’s tits are full – lookit them: see how swollen and veiny they are? See the milk beading on those large nips? We have to drain them now.” “Well, I fail to see why we shouldn’t just leave them be.” “Because she’s sore – right Zaiva?” I started from my stupefied state of detached denial. “Hm? Yes… painful. Among other things.” “Hmph! I don’t care how uncomfortable she is,” Victoria huffed. “This nonsense can wait till morning.” Aniya cocked an eyebrow with a knowing smirk. “If we don’t… she’ll leak all over us.” Victoria’s face paled. “Uh… she could just squeeze herself empty…” “Into what? We have no pails. No, there’s only one way out of this… and we must do it together.” Victoria opened her mouth, closed it, opened it and closed it again. I could feel her body stiffening frightfully, and her hands clenched into shaking fists as she trembled in fear. Then Aniya lay a hand on her again – this time in comfort – and smiled. “They’ll never know,” she whispered. “I… I’m not some barn beast,” Victoria whispered back. “I don’t want to… I can’t.” “I’ll help you. Close your eyes. Lean in a bit… now open your mouth. Don’t look. Just a little more…” Before I knew it, the girls were suckling away like a newborn brood. Aniya drank faster from experience and recklessness, while Victoria was hesitant at first. That hesitation gave way to greed when the first drops of milk sprayed into her mouth, the prude woman inhaled sharply through her nose and adjusted her whole body for a better angle to suckle faster. All through this humiliating ordeal, I could hardly think. Helpless as I was, my mind had froze altogether as if by inaction it could deny reality itself – yet reality had me rushing back to conscious thought, and it did so with the feel of two mouths at my breasts. It was ecstasy. The squeezing, squashing press of my over-encumbered breasts, the sharp teasing sensation of tongue and teeth, it was all so overwhelming that I was silently gasping with my eyes rolled into my skull. Yes! It was ecstasy. It was orgasmic. And it was disgusting. Disgusting! That I could feel such relief from my body expelling fluids! It was like pissing – except pissing was done in solitude! Well! Milk or piss, I wanted it all out! Both girls were completely committed to this task now, guzzling away at mouthful after mouthful. I kept thinking I’d be drained, only for it to continue. Only after some time had passed and the Moon shone through the window that I saw the cause: my breasts weren’t all that was being drained. My belly was subsiding. Indeed, as quick as milk left me, it was replaced via ample stores of as-yet undigested nymph-nectar – and as that drained, so too did the others’ midsections begin to bulge. For the first time in ages, hope filled me utterly – I was no longer stuffed! Freshly invigorated, I put my hands on the backs of their heads and pressed them closer, inspiring them to drink faster. I even allowed myself to revel in the moment, a faint moan escaping my lips. At last, things were turning in my favour! A while longer, and my belly would be empty again – and dare I imagine it? I could be thin again – the very fat sucked from my bones! Alas, it was not to be. The nectar was drained, the milk ran dry, and the girls rose from their positions. They seemed as if they were in a daze, themselves as disbelieving of what they’d experienced as much as I – and all the more-so at the stuffed bellies they sported. Such was our mutual befuddlement that we all returned ourselves to slumber without a word spoken among us. When I awoke, the sun was blazing through the window and flooding our eyelids red. I resisted its rays and attempted to regain sleep lost overnight, but the day only grew hotter. Victoria was the first among us to move, stretching herself awake. “Strange,” she groaned. As I opened my eyes, I saw her pat her curiously flat stomach. “I had the most peculiar dream…” Aniya sat-up next, paused, then looked at us excitedly. “It wasn’t a dream.” “Wasn’t a dream? But… if it really happened, why are our bellies so empty?” “Look at yourself,” Aniya grinned. Victoria did, and was awestruck at her body’s overnight transformation. Breasts that had fit neatly in a single palm had ripened further and strained against her pigskin, thighs that had been thick had grown snug and bulged a full inch wherever they could. All throughout her body was an extra subtle padding – at least fifteen pounds – pounds that were not in me. “Gods…” Victoria rubbed her hands down her sides. “I’m huge…” “Not really,” Aniya replied with a smack of her bottom (which had widened at least an inch). “But yeah. That table’s message wasn’t kidding about milk… how ‘bout you, Zaiva? Feel better?” I noted my stomach was empty with satisfaction, but frowned at the sight of an extra amount of plushness that had found its way to the pooch under my navel. Worse, my nipples remained large and discoloured, as if primed to refill again. “I’ve been bigger,” I eased myself upon my elbows. “But I’ve also been smaller.” We were interrupted by a hasty rap on the door. “Zaiva? Aniya?” the voice was Pixie’s. “Victoria? Girls?” Bobette’s voice followed suit. “Are you awake? We need you.” “What?” Aniya spoke on our behalf. “Can you come outside?” asked Pixie. “It’s about Quiet One.” “She’s stuck on the roof and we can’t get her down!” added Bobette.
  13. One time a girl wrapped her hands around my throat and I still think about that brief moment
  14. Chapter Fifty-Seven “Pillow?” Victoria frowned. “You want to use Zaiva as a pillow?” “Yea,” Aniya replied as casually as one discussing dinner. “What? Cinder’s been our pillow for awhile, but you know…” “I don’t,” I said. “What’s this about using me as a –” Aniya interrupted me with a finger to my lips. “Hush, Zaiv. Be my wing-girl with this one.” “A what?” “Vicky,” Aniya turned-away from me. “Uh, Victoria. Sorry ‘bout that… anyway, I know you got feelings for Zaiva and I guess you must feel jealous cause… hey, let’s get in the hammock! We missed you.” “Aniya,” I said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to have any extra weight on top of me.” “Psh, we know that! That’s why we’ll sleep on either side you instead! And don’t worry about us tipping over; it won’t do that if we hop-in together.” “Couldn’t you two find another room…?” The girls were ignoring me now, having already staged themselves on either side of the hammock, surrounding me like panthers around their immobile prey. It was all I could do to just grit my teeth and brace myself. I wasn’t about to cry-out and humiliate myself further, and I couldn’t move if I wanted to anyway. So it was that the girls hopped-in, squashing me in the process. “Watch it!” I hissed. “Oops,” Aniya replied without a hint of remorse. “Sorry Zaiv.’ Kinda tumbled onto your gut – it’s hard to avoid when it’s so big and… hey, Victoria? Can you lift your leg a little? I’m gonna fit mine under Zaiva’s gut… give her some breathing room…” I meant to snap at her, but all that came out was a throaty belch. All this jostling was unsettling my overstuffed stomach. The damned thing wobbled as the girls wrapped themselves around me, and all the contents within were fizzing and bubbling like a cauldron. I could swear I could see the glowing, orange contents within swirling away. I was boiling from within and I was helpless to stop it! Eventually, the girls settled and so did my guts. The swirling, boiling, orange glow faded to a dull simmer and I stopped belching. Now I had to deal with a new problem: the girls were getting handsy. “Mm, it’s so good to be back,” Aniya sighed as she nestled her head under my chin. “Right, Victoria?” “Well, I can’t say I don’t miss my warm bed at home,” said Victoria from the other side of my chin. “If we’re to sleep exposed to the elements, we should at least be given a warm fire.” “But we got something far better,” Aniya reached past me and grabbed Victoria’s arm. “Check this out…” I groaned impatiently. “What are you talking about this time?” Aniya ignored my question as she guided Victoria’s hand across the upper swell of my belly where it crested highest. “Lemme take your hand and show you something… lay it here – right here – see? How’s that feel?” “It’s warm,” Victoria inhaled sharply and her chest pressed against my side. “Cinder was right! It’s like those rocks my mother would leave by the fireplace. She’d roast them before wrapping them in a rag and tucking them into my sheets to make the bed hot.” “Right? Bet it’s softer than a rock,” Aniya purred as she placed her own hands upon me. “Perfect for cuddling as we fall fast asleep.” I, however, was less than comfortable. Their “warm pillow” was my shameful, bloated gut, and having it be the centre of attention was the last thing I wanted! Yet despite everything, Aniya was right. After all we’d been through, I owed her one small favour – a small favour. A favour that wore thin when I felt someone’s finger pluck at the skin of my naval. I slapped it away. “Enough! I don’t care how amusing my gut is; I’m in enough discomfort as it is!” Aniya looked-up at me with pup-dog eyes. “You’re uncomfortable?” I almost said yes, but paused mid-breath. My stomach was not as stuffed as it had been, and the glow within had faded. Interesting. Perhaps I would be getting some sleep after all. Then I remembered Aniya’s question. “Somewhat,” I told her. “We can help you,” she played her fingers across my belly. “Where does it hurt?” “Inside,” I grumbled. “Obviously.” “Aw, don’t worry,” she circled her hand around the belly before cupping it from below the naval. “You’ll feel better soon. Just focus on my hands and I’ll make sure you drift asleep. With that, the presumptuous dark elf began petting me in slow, rhythmic circles. I was annoyed, but it felt nice. In time, Aniya’s breaths slowed and her hand stopped petting. It wasn’t long before the three of us succumbed to our weariness and drifted asleep. Yellow eyes were staring at me from the open window. Odd… was I truly awake or was I still dreaming? By the time I realized my eyes were in fact open, the yellow eyes were gone – but had I really seen them? They were slitted, glowing things much like a cat’s, but quite large. If my mind wasn’t playing tricks, it was a big cat, and if that was the case, it might be wise to investigate. This I nearly did, but the moment I flexed my limbs, I found them ensnared with heavy weights. The weights stirred slightly, and I heard a soft moan as one of them tucked its thighs against me. A chill ran down my spine as I remembered the night’s prior events. Aniya and Victoria – ah yes, of course. They’d climbed-in after me and were now wrapped around me like mating snakes. Victoria lay on my left, curled into a ball with her hand over my beating heart and her body on my left arm. Aniya lay on my right with her thighs wrapped around one of my own as she hugged my arm in her sleep. It seemed I was in no position to investigate anything much less move – not if I wanted to preserve the peace and quiet. Best to fall asleep again – I never had enough of it lately. I closed my eyes and awaited for my dreams to return to me, yet try as I might, they never did. There was something uncomfortable about the position I was in. Was it my stuffed belly? I attempted to look, but my cantaloupe-sized breasts blocked my view – unless my eyes deceived me? Had my belly finally shrank or had my breasts grown? Either way, my discomfort was only growing as I tried to ignore it. There were no distractions for me to dwell on, no new positions to sleep with. There were was only a dull ache – an ache that seemed to come from within before finally collecting into where I could find it: my breasts. I glanced down at my breasts once more, measuring the twin-mounds with my eyes under the dim light of the glowing moss hanging from the ceiling. They were notably-swollen, and I could see veins just under the skin. My pigskin was still bunched at my waist where Honeybun had left it, and I was grateful for it – not because it freed my overstuffed gut, but because of how tender my breasts were becoming. Now that I knew they were the source of my discomfort, I was hyperaware of every change they’d undergone. The veins seemed like tree roots, tracing their way towards the nipples, which had themselves grown slightly and even changed colour. Gods above and below! What had I done to deserve this curse? I sighed in frustration at my fate and felt the air brush the twin tips before me. How could I expect to sleep now that I’d learned what the nymph’s nectar was doing to me? I knew my discomfort would only grow worse, and even if I did fall asleep, what then? What new horrors awaited my awakening? Curse Sultan Ibrahim and his perverted tastes! Then Aniya stirred against me. It seemed my struggle had awakened her in spite of my caution. “Mm,” she breathed heavily as she squirmed against me. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” I whispered as quietly as possible. She stroked my shoulder with a flex of two fingers. “It’s alright… I’ve been watching you awhile. I already know.” So she’d been awake all along. “Know what?” Her hand brushed its way to my right breast and found its summit. It made me hiss with discomfort – and it also did something else. Something wet formed a drop on my nipple and trickled down the curve of my breast towards my cleavage – something warm. “Don’t –” I stopped myself. “Don’t make noise. You’ll wake her up.” Aniya glanced towards Victoria on the opposite side of me before whispering: “I’ve seen this before. I can fix it. Will you let me?” Hoping for a quick end of my torments, I nodded. “Quietly,” I warned. Aniya nodded back. “Not a sound…” Without further warning, she eased herself over me with her mouth gaping wide before proceeding to clamp it over my breast and began to drink… And drink…
  15. She’s shown signs of it the whole story, but it’s only now that she gets to say it out loud.
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