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(Author’s Note: In this chapter, statements between (**)’s are from Ailara’s perspective as she peers through the eyes of others) I glared. I fumed. I stamped my feet. “I do not care how many tantrums you throw, Ailara. We are NOT going back for your wardrobe. We’re leagues away from that place, and besides, it was, how do you humans put it? Ah yes, a pain in my ass to carry mile after mile.” Oluth snorted. “But I shall have to buy all new clothing! Don’t you understand that every item in that chest was the HEIGHT of fashion? I would not be seen in public withou-“ But Oluth interrupted my protest. “AILARA! Do you see these tears streaming from my eyes over your horrible predicament?” He asked. “I can see none of them…” I said hesitantly. “EXACTLY! Now march, you ball-licking, impudent wench!” And I marched. * * * Oluth had taken to a most annoying habit as we walked. In the absence of my wardrobe, he instead chose to carry Saela, letting her sit on one of his broad, sculpted shoulders. It was not long however before he was sampling dangling her by her pale thighs, upside-down, letting her curl her face up into his swinging scrotum beneath the loin cloth. As we walked the slurpy sounds of her lust became a constant annoyance to my ears. It had a different effect on Valsivale however…as Saela sucked and worshipped Oluth’s monstrous soft cock and heavy balls, the Enchantress’ hand would occasionally drop down, giving her clit the lightest of flicks in response to her arousal. The nipples of her massive, frustratingly large breasts were clearly erect, straining forward against her shirt as though guiding us to our destination. Come to think of it, so too were my own. We trudged along, her sucking sounds going on for miles and miles, but he finally set her down as we reached the bottom of the hills surrounding the strange city. Saela seemed woozy, whether it was from the heady musk of the balls she’d been sucking so persistently, or being upside-down causing the blood to rush to her head I could not be sure. “I do not think Ailara’s husband will find us here. We’re a great distance from where they last saw us. Still, be on the alert for other dangers.” Oluth instructed. Valsivale began to fish around in one of her larger waist-pouches, “Just a moment dearies, I have something somewhere for you all…” She handed us each a small glass marble. “These are enchanted. Just hold it in your palm, close your eyes, and think of a person and you’ll see them inside your head. This way we can keep track of each other.” I tested mine, thinking of Oluth… it was like looking at him through another’s eyes, but it seemed to work fine. “All right. I am going to see what I can find out about Ailara’s husband’s pursuit. You ladies do as you wish. We’ll find each other later with Valsivale’s glass beads.” Oluth commanded. And we went our separate ways. * * * Sometimes I wish to curse Oluth’s name to the heavens. I wish I could curse those big, deep brown eyes, that perfect musculature that ripples with strength and vitality in every motion he makes, that deep rumbling voice which seems to command my heart to dance at its every intonation, not to mention that endless cock which he uses so well, seeming to force-march my pussy over a league of pleasure each time he fucks me… …I realized with embarrassment that I’d actually just had an orgasm even as I just tried to stay angry at Oluth. It could not be done, damn him. Well, first things first. Where were we exactly? I wandered up to the nearest slack-jawed peasant, a teenage boy whose eyes seemed to be trying to jump ship for the ocean of my cleavage as I approached. “You there, wastrel, what city is this?” I demanded. “I-I’m no wastrel ma’am, we’re all equals here in the free city of Scarnia.” He muttered back. “Well you’re not my equal boy, but my thanks for the answer.” I turned from him even as he stammered to say something else. “Stuck up bitch!” He managed while I was still in earshot. “In my own lands I could have you tortured, killed, and then tortured some more for saying that.” I shot back with edge. “Well you’re not in your own lands.” He said, raising his middle finger in what I must assume was some sort of offensive gesture in this place. He was right though. This land was strange. The buildings were square, the streets made of solid unhewn stone, and everyone seemed incredibly wealthy for peasantry. Their clothes were clean, their hair immaculate, and horse-drawn carriages seemed to flow in a never-ending stream through the streets, as if everyone could afford to own a team. It may have been the effect that Oluth had on me, but I was quick to notice sexual features as well. Most of the men here seemed to have well-packed trousers; none so impressive as the great Myrnotaur of course, but easily more than anything the peasant males back home might have been appointed. Then there were the women; how was it possible that all could have such large, firm breasts? They seemed to defy gravity, barely bouncing as they walked, none my size, but all larger than what might have been back home. Ah, but here there was reason! As I wandered the streets I chanced to glimpse a woman whose shawl had slipped, and beneath this there was clearly a strap over each of her shoulders. These women had some garment that enhanced their bosoms. I had to know more. ”Peasant wench, what is lifting your bosom?” I demanded of the next woman I saw pass. “WHAT?!” Here eyes went wide and her face went red. “Your teats, peasant. What holds them in place?” “A-a-a Bra?” She sounded confused. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking, now would I?” “You’re horrible.” “No. I’m better then you. Now scurry on, I’m going to find where they sell these…’Bra’ things.” And again I was off through the streets. It took some time, and more agonizing conversations with slow-witted, Ankara bayan escort slack jawed peasants who did not know their places for me to finally be directed to a tailor who sold this “lingerie”. Everywhere I went it seemed no one bowed before me, addressed me with the proper respect a lady deserves, and a few even started to lecture me about how they had no monarchy or aristocracy here, that they all made decisions together in some sort of “Dumbocracy.” Aptly named to say the least. But the brassieres fascinated me! The tailor was a pleasant little man who could not conceal his merely adequate hard-on at the prospect of measuring me. An elaborate series of lengths were taken, around my torso, my breasts, and rib cage. When finished he whistled. “Milady,” He had learned to address me with respect at least “These are the largest bosoms I’ve ever seen. It will take me some time to fashion you a bra adequate to the task of supporting the weight of such a superlative pair.” I beamed at the compliment. “I think I shall have to call it an i-cup.” He rubbed his hands together with glee. “Explain to me how it works.” I said. And he did, showing me the whole system of measurement. From this I deduced that little Saela was a mere DD cup, and Valsivale’s pair might have been a mighty J cup, though she would never have need of a supportive garment. Of course with Valsivale’s magics upon me, mine would have been at least in the range of KK or even L cup. I requested him to make one bra in each of these sizes, and his eyes bugged out of his head. “I’d really prefer to measure each of these women in person, milady.” He said with anticipation in his voice. “Oh, go masturbate into a thimble. I’ll be back with money when the bras are complete. How long do you think it will take?” He scowled at my words. “They’ll be ready tomorrow morning, Lady.” “Adequate.” I grumped as I went out the door. The nearest bank still accepted my husband’s name as my own in credit, and the sack of coin I left with was almost as large and heavy as Oluth’s scrotum. Curious, I turned my attention to the marble and decided to do a little eavesdropping. What Valsivale did not warn me of the little glass stones, was that if you looked through someone’s eyes long enough, you started to cue into their thoughts and memories. By and by I came to know how Saela had spent her whole afternoon, the Syphaerel language of her thoughts somehow understandable to me, and I processed all in her own inner-monologue, far more upbeat than my own. * * * Story II; In which Saela gets into trouble with the law. It had been a great morning! I had spent all of it feasting on Oluth’s fat balls, giddy as a mere 80 year old brat while he carried and fed me! (*Saela is more than 80? I shall have to taunt her mercilessly for this…*) Oh but they were tasty! How can anyone’s man-fruit be that large and that delicious at the same time! Oh and the fuckings he dishes out! It’s true what they say back home! Once you go Bull, you’ll always be full! I hope someday I can take him all! If only he didn’t come with that awful Ailara, she’s like ten gallons of bitch in a five gallon jug! (*What? Why you little…*) Oh well, she’s probably just jealous I’m cuter than her! (*Oh it is so on…*) She’d be hot if she weren’t such a prude of course! I guess I’ll have to content myself with fantasies of Valsivale until she learns to be nicer! (*What?*) I hope she does the same with me! Humans are so limited in their choices! If they lived as long as us they’d understand that you get BORED with just one gender to screw after a few centuries! So this is Scarnia huh?! I’ve always wanted to come here! So much to see and take! * * * I flit down the street, keeping close to walls; I didn’t see any other Syphaerel so it was important to try to keep my ears underneath my hair. You can never tell how humans are going to react to one of our kind. I was going to need money for a few things. Clothes for one; I didn’t want to have to borrow from the bitch-goddess Ailara ever again; I’ve never been so humiliated. (*Good*) Also it would be nice to get Oluth something to thank him for allowing me to enjoy his succulent sack all morning. I think the only thing he owns in the world is that loincloth, and it’s not getting any less tattered at this point. Hmmm… Shall I play it straight? Steal a lute and then play for coin in the marketplace? Nah. Humans are bad at keeping their stuff safe! I tiptoed soundlessly on the hard grey ground. Men’s coin-purses were an easy start, my deft fingers unbinding knots and palming bags away at every turn. I picked three pockets by the time I’d made it to my first merchant stand. “Excuse me, ma’am, I’ll take that blouse, and that long skirt there…yes, thank you…Could you shorten the bottom a little…my legs aren’t quite so lengthy.” As she turned to grab the scissors, I re-arranged her stand meticulously, my hands a blur as I pilfered two more shirts, a short skirt, a broach, and a strange white garment, a sort of strap that looked almost as though it might fit Oluth. By the time she’d turned around, all was secreted away on my person, the shirts and pants and bolts of her cloth nudged one way or another to conceal the absence of all I’d taken. I took a few crowns from one of the coin purses and handed them over; generously tipping the woman I’d just robbed blind, and traipsed down the street. I’m about crotch-to-eye level with most tall human males, and I couldn’t help but notice how each one seemed generously endowed for their kind. Sylvans are much better hung than most people suspect, but a number of humans can hold a candle to them. But these men seemed different. Ah! The straps, of course… each one supported his undercarriage with a sort of stretchy hammock that lifted and defined Escort bayan Ankara the package better. Not a bad invention, I hope Oluth will appreciate it. (*She’ll never find one that fits the great bull… but on the other hand, one that doesn’t fit might be even more delicious*) But there must be something better…Oo look at those statues! I crept up to another merchant stand. Amongst other busts and little stone carvings and sculptures, he had a whole series of pieces depicting Myrnotaurs! They were not quite as impressive looking as the real thing, but they were nicely made, some in battle with axes or spears, and a few others who seemed to be about to take advantage of human women who looked to be at once terrified and aroused. That pretty much sums it up! I carefully cast a handful of smaller coins behind the man, and as he turned to view and pick them up, three Myrnotaur statues went into the satchel I’d snatched moments before. When I turned to escape, however, I was greeted by an awful sight! “Hello darling. Have you missed me?” Evarell grinned maliciously at me. How had he gotten here? “Ex-Fiancé, how did you…?” “You just couldn’t keep to the plan, could you, little slut. Here I wasted so much money on a couple of Aurkish thugs to kill you so I could go weeping to your family for your inheritance, and you just had to be cockcharmed away from me by some hulking bull bastard.” “So that’s how they caught you off guard!” I knew that situation had seemed all wrong. “Well I don’t see your mighty-membered moo-cow anymore. Did he ditch you at the first crossroad after having his way with you?” “No, he’s—“ “—Not here right now regardless. And you know what is here? More Aurks…by the gods they work cheap!” My bastard ex-fiancé’s smile widened as two burly green pig-men came to stand beside him. Then I was running. I tore back the way I came, ducking between and under people as best as I could while the three men followed me, Evarell’s Sylvan speed allowing him to almost grab me. Then I found myself running into a semi-circle of guards. “Oh thank the gods! Officers this man is—“ “—Going to stand aside while we arrest you for looting 47 people in 22 minutes.” Two guards shoved Evarell back as a third and forth slapped manacles onto me. Quick math told me that a cold cell for the night was better than a cold knife between the ribs, so I merely stuck my tongue out at my ex as the humans led me to a tiny cell. * * * Why did I have to get the smart jailor? He was a single middle-aged human posted to keep watch on me, my copious pile of looted objects on the table just outside my prison. “All right little miss, I don’t think al little thieving is something to get all bent out of shape about really. So here’s the deal pretty one… if you suck my prick, I’ll let you out of here.” I looked out the window. Evarell was standing with his arms folded across the street, a glint in his eye as he beheld my face looking out. He ran a thumb across this throat and pointed to me, letting me know I was a dead woman the second I left this place. “No, that’s okay Mister. You can leave your prick out of this…I uh, I want to do my time.” The Jailor pondered a moment, the peeked out the door. “Oh I get it… You don’t want him to get you, do you?” I sighed. “No sir.” “Then come here and suck me off or I’ll make you leave.” Gods be damned! The arrogant little man swaggered over and re-chained my wrists to the bars of the cell so that my face was right at crotch height. He dropped his trousers and strange crotch-hammock to produce the smallest cock I’d ever seen. Eagerly he shoved it against my lips, and I almost sobbed as I began to lick and slurp around it. The thing was maybe 5 inches when I’d finally gotten hard, and amongst my people, the men are almost born at that size. (*Haha! this is the best day of my life! Suck it you stupid Sylvan slut! I hope Oluth ditches you here and we never see you again*) It did not take long before the thing went off in my face, producing much more human spunk than I thought might come out of such a little thing. I was unable to wipe my face in the aftermath, and simply glared and glared from beneath my new white mask, biding my time. * * * Story III; in which Valsivale takes over. I turned away from Saela’s mind, as her story got remarkably boring after that. The sad little wretch just sitting in her cell and moping. To her misfortune the Jailor had stamina, and seemed to wander over about every hour to drizzle her face in another thick load of seed. It’s a wonder what such dramatically lesser men can do sometimes. Now I turned my thoughts to Valsivale, viewing her day, a little astounded as the emotional tapestry of her existence slammed into me. * * * Lust, lust fear jealous desire lust envy lust lust. As soon as we’d entered the gates of Scarnia I remembered why I both reviled and reveled in the city. So many people. So many strong emotions. I wandered the streets slowly, loving the men loving me. I could feel their eyes crawl over my flesh, their anticipation, lust, their intimidation at my cultivated beauty. Oh yes little boys…I feel it. I feel how bad you want me. I look so good. I want me too. Ngh yesss… I’m so sexy…..fuck I’m hot… yess (*I had no idea Valsivale was so arrogant!*) Then the waves of envy come to follow Ooohhhh my, oh those broken hearts and scared minds. You’re thinking of it aren’t you, women? You’re dreading the thought of your men on their knees for me, worshipping me, serving me… oh you should be…oh your jealousy gives me such power! (*I wondered if my feelings were so embarrassingly transparent to her.*) I would have to enjoy this properly. Over drinks. To the tavern! I found a small pub called “The Happy Hen” and got myself a table. Now the fun would begin. * Bayan escort Ankara * * The first great thing about this bar, was the general jovial mood. You can do more with happiness than you might think. You can force people to dance for your amusement. I flicked a wrist and gathered the golden joy into my palm, admiring the tint of this emotion before doing exactly that. Tendrils of light caressed the chests of a dozen people in the crowded establishment, and in a mass exodus they proceeded to stand and pick out partners. Soon they were grinding out on the floor, their loins taking over for their heads, and the air became charged with lust and desire. I gathered the strands of desire, and let it grow a moment, the balls of it swelling huge between my palms. Its purple light filled the room, causing a few heads to turn. With a flash I distributed it suddenly throughout the place; throwing everyone desire and lust back onto them, causing physical changes to reflect their desires. Buttons flew across the room as blouses gave way and bras snapped. Ripping sounds came from men all around as cocks filled out and balls sagged larger and heavier, their strange undergarments giving way to the new prodigious weight. I licked my lips as I surveyed the new kings and queens of sexual conquest in this place. One woman’s breasts were now almost the size of Ailara’s, billowing up out of her blouse. I gave her a lurid gaze and flicked a little power through it, beckoning her to me. Oh that sweet Ailara…I would one day make her my own, and pleasure her as even Oluth would have difficulty rivaling. She would be mine, oh yes, she would be mine. (*WHAT?!*) But in the meantime, until I could have Ailara, this tavern wench would have to do. She crept up to me, swaying her hips, crouching to rest her new massive breasts upon the sturdy oak table. “C-can I get you something miss?” She asked, her nipples clearly erect. “Yes. You see that man over there with the 14 inch cock?” I pointed at him; he was waving his new dick around in the air, amazed that the strength of his desire had tripled its size. Below this was a pair of goose-egg sized balls, straining at their own sack for all their mass. She gaped at this, his huge cock standing out even more than the rest in this chaotic scene. There was not a man left under nine inches in this place, and the lust only kept growing and growing, feeding me more fodder for other tricks later. “Yes I see him…wow…wow look at that thing…ooo…” A hand dropped to her skirt, her fingers testing her clit out as she half-listened to me. “I would like you to bring me a brandy-snifter full of his cum. Do I make myself quite clear?” “Yes ma’am…” She said in awe of my revolting request. I leaned back and beckoned two men with less copious endowments to come and kneel before me, placing one of my feet on each, leaning back with my legs spread on this pair of human footstools. Another woman was summoned to kneel before me next, her pendulous new breasts nearly dangling to the floor as I pointed to my glistening slit and made her lick. I watched, blissfully, as across the room the huge-breasted woman knelt before the 14 inch megastud, wrapping both her hands around his meaty flesh pole. I’d like to take credit, but my magic had nothing to do with the quality of the blowjob she proceeded to give him. It did not have one of those delicate, tentative beginnings no,… her lust carried her away, and after whipping her head up and down his column, almost chewing it like an ear of corn, she was cramming his huge cocktop right into her mouth. Even in the noisy lust filled room, in which the moans and groans and creaking-wood sounds of an orgy starting up were loud, her gulping slurpy sucks were audible. The slurpy sounds of her blowjob were sweet news to my snatch, and I waved a finger, quadrupling the length of my cunnilingus slave’s tongue, squirming a little in my chair as she shoved it deep up inside me. Meanwhile the incredible show on the dance floor was getting attention. A man hand begun to plow my waitress’ pussy from behind, cramming 11 inches of magically enhanced cock deep inside her as she continued to impale her throat on my eventual drink’s dispenser. Another women lay on her back beneath the waitress, sucking on her dangling tits for all she was worth, her own legs spread to receive a vicious 9 inch prod pounding away. As the 14 inch stud finally started to cum, she yanked his big hose down into the rim of a glass and milked his balls with expert precision as they blasted wad after thick wad of cream into it. At the same time my hips bucked in the throws of what would no doubt be my first orgasm of many. My foot-stool slaves fondled and fingered the woman licking me off as her throat convulsed, gulping my juice as it rolled from me in a river of pleasure-honey. The Waitress came back with my glass, disentangling herself from the orgy to present it to me with a bow. “Well done. You may fuck him now.” She clapped with glee, tits and eyes both wild, before scampering back to jump into his arms and onto his cock, fucking him while standing against the wall. I leaned back and drank deeply of his rich, hot spunk, savoring the taste before swallowing. Then a strapping lad with ten inches bowed before me. “May I please fuck your pussy, Enchantress?” He was a bright boy, but out of luck today. “No, I save this for a bigger and better man than any here. But you may continue where the last left off and lick me.” “Yes ma’am!” He saluted, and knelt before me. Guards came eventually, but they too were only swept by my spell, and soon the tavern was filled with over 100 people having sex, the lust feeding me as slave after slave licked and fingered me to orgasm after orgasm. * * * Story IV: In which Oluth makes everything right. I had to stop watching Valsivale, the wave of her own pleasure too overwhelming for me to concentrate. It’s a good thing too; because that’s when my husband’s men suddenly burst into the restaurant I’d been eating in. I do not know how they reached me so quickly, but soon I was trussed up and being paraded through the streets with a column at my side.
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