Siren Song Ch. 08

Short and to the point: This is a Breast Expansion Fetish story. If B.E.'s not up your alley, then you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

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Siren Song: The Siren Song Extended — Menena's Comeuppance

by

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

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First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2013-11-16

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

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

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1186-7, if you're one for nitpicking.

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Obscure inspirational music reference:

"... The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I ever had ..." — Tears for Fears, Mad World

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What happened so far:

Once upon a winter storm, a young woman named Barbara saved a young man named David from drowning. As these things often go, they fell in love. As these things also often go, their love was frowned upon by the girl's mistress, rich and influential Menena, the town's mayor, who was smitten with David (or rather, the huge cock he was blessed with). Not one to take rejection lightly, she kept on making the young couple's life miserable any which way she could. Things took a turn for the worse when Barbara became the target of a gaggle of mermaids' plan to procure themselves a new Feeder, and Menena's meddling in those tricky affairs of transformation magic caused quite spectacular developments on Barbara's body. Barbara and David barely made it to safety, or at least out of Menena's greedy claws into the somewhat fishy embrace of the mermaids.

Will Menena get away with her misdeeds? Read on to find out ...

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Two years ago, 1185 ...

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

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Chapter 24: A Mermaid's Court

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Summer of 1187 ...

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The midday sun burned down on the secluded stretch of stone beach beneath the cliffs. A sole narrow path led down to the water's edge, and it was more of a chain of depressions caused by sagging earth and withering rock than a real footpath. The woman of forty cautiously watched her step as she slowly climbed down the treacherous route. Sand and stones gave way under her feet, and she struggled to maintain her balance. It only worked every so often, and her palms and elbows were scuffed already. The landward wind pulled at her raven tresses that might have been lush and shiny in the morning but by now were a sweaty, matted mane with gray spots of dust and dirt.

She gasped for air as her feet slipped out from under her. Falling hard on her sizable buttocks, she slid down a couple of yards until she caught her heels. Her momentum made her flip forward. She stumbled on and ended up face down on a small hill of softer sand. Grunting, spitting and cursing she clambered to her feet and brushed the loose sand from her dress and her round face.

"Yes, Menena, just like you deserve it," she chided herself under her breath. "Be a good girl and go and get your punishment." The way she wiped the sand from her face could've easily been mistaken for a couple of painful slaps on the cheeks.

Menena's clothes were worn and ragged. The remainder of a drab tunic slung around her chest was so wide and baggy that it just barely hinted at the heavy, breathtakingly huge breasts hidden underneath. A length of old rope held the cloth in place; it cut into her slight paunch, resulting in a mesh of pleats that extended from her waist down to the frayed rim of the fabric at the height of her knees. Dust and dried blots of dirt covered the bright skin of her naked shins and feet. The supremely well-preserved forty-something raven stopped just out of reach of the waves. Her face was contorted by pain; the coarse cobbles covering the beach pressed into her bare soles and ground against the bones and joints in her feet. She gulped and panted flatly, struggling against rising shame to get the words out. Facing the ocean, she groaned, "Here I am. I — I've been bad." Tears stung in her eyes.

A chain of bubbles drew in from the open sea and neared the edge where water met land. Inch by inch, a head with soaked short green hair rose from the surface. Bright green eyes flashed under thin, slightly triangular eyebrows. A frown reached from the forehead across the small button nose to Anosthea's upper lip, revealing the mermaid witch's sharp teeth.

"Bad?" she replied as she cocked her head. "I don't think 'bad' is quite the word for it." Rivulets of water ran down her girlish torso that matched the height of Menena's. The onset of her long prehensile fish tail broke the surface as she kept on rising higher. Tiny scales glittered like scattered silver dots on her skin above the belt around her flaring hips. They gradually became bigger towards her thighs until the girl skin disappeared completely and the illusion of two firm muscular thighs changed into a silver fish tail with a faint tiger pattern spreading from her back to the almost blindingly white front.

Menena's breathing came faster. She lowered her head and turned her gaze away. "E—evil. I've — I've done evil things."

"Oh yes you have," nodded the mermaid. Wet leather creaked in her right hand's grip. Menena shuddered and shrunk at the faint noise.

"I told you," continued the green-haired girl. She raised her slender fingers to her right nipple and ran her fingertips in circles around the slowly hardening nub. "Mmmh. I told you you'd be punished, did I not?"

"Yes," whispered Menena.

"Yes?" A short hiss, barely a word.

Nothing of the mayor woman's former proud demeanor remained as she drew her lower lip over her teeth and stammered with trembling jaw, "Y—yes, M—mistress."

The tip of the whip cracked across her cheek, inches from her eyes. Menena jerked in surprise and pain. A drop of blood swelled slowly from the cut in her skin before beginning its journey down her jawline.

"And—?" Anosthea's question sounded more like a long-drawn moan. The tip of her long snake tongue moistened her lips. Her fingertips pinched the coarse hard raspberry of her right nipple. "You wouldn't submit yourself to castigation if you didn't hope to gain something from it." She spat out.

"I — I ask for the gift, though I don't deserve it," panted Menena.

"Damn right you don't deserve the gift!" roared the girl. Her arm flicked forward, and the whip's thin leather rope flew in a wide arc until it coiled around Menena's throat. The mermaid pulled. Her catch stumbled into the water. Menena lost her balance and would've splashed down if not for the webbed fingers suddenly wrapping around her neck. Anosthea's big eyes filled her sight. The siren's salty ocean breath washed over Menena's face.

"And now," growled Anosthea as Menena had no choice but to cock her head sideways in the mermaid's grip, "you will learn about turning the other cheek."

Her tongue slipped out and sampled the crimson rivulet sticking to Menena's left cheek. "Mmmh. How come someone so venomous can taste so sweet?" breathed the siren. She changed her position in a fluid slithering motion and turned her prey's head over until Menena's right cheek pointed up and forward. The short but sharp nail of the mermaid's left forefinger dug a fraction of an inch into the skin. Agonizingly slow, she pulled her natural talon across the pale surface. Tiny drops of red erupted in its wake, and Anosthea pouted and pressed a sucking kiss on the long slice. When she drew away and threw back her head with a fiendish giggle, her lips were dark red.

"Mistress," whimpered Menena.

Anosthea let go and slithered away without a word. Menena dropped to her hands and knees in the shallow surf. She wiped her bloodied cheeks with the back of her hand and sucked in air as the saltwater bit into the wounds.

"Please, Mistress, I — may I now —," she begged.

The young mermaid watched her with outward contempt while rolling up the long whip and tying it to her belt.

"Oh, so you want your gift anyway? The gift from our generous feeder? Behind the big rock. To your right. To the last drop," she said with a sneer.

Menena struggled to her feet and stumbled towards the boulder. Anosthea watched with her arms crossed over her chest as the raven turned the corner, stopped suddenly and then grew even paler. A tiny corked flask sat innocently on a small flat protrusion near the top of the boulder, and three huge buckets full of milk stood at the foot of the rock. The raven shrunk and drew up her shoulders, pressed her elbows into her sides and hunched forward as she turned to the mermaid swaying slowly in the surf. Menena desperately wrung her hands.

"Thank you for your generosity, Mistress, but — so much? Three whole buckets? I —"

"I remember a woman who mocked a girl for giving a mere bucket. You want it? Drink. It. All. Or leave empty handed, while you can."

Menena cast a quick glance and licked her lips. She hesitated, then her voice grew whiney. "Oh please, please, Mistress Anosthea, I wasn't that evil, I swear! Please, let me just take them along without —"

"And you think I care?" was the angry reply. "Leave, or drink it all. Here. Now."

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Menena raised the first heavy pail to her lips. Gulp by gulp, the treacherously delicious liquid, still slightly warm, ran down her gullet and filled her belly. She sensed every tiny shiver and faint sting while her skin stretched reluctantly. A quarter into the two gallons, she felt the touch of her dress' coarse cloth against her swelling paunch, and she hesitated and lowered the bucket, burping deeply. Her breath came quicker already; the bloated bag of her stomach fought her lungs for room.

The mermaid watched her nonchalantly, laying prone in the surf and resting her cocked head on her meshed fingers.

"Sated yet? That won't do!" she purred with a sardonic smile. "Go on! You haven't even finished the first, there's two more waiting."

Menena moaned quietly, put the half-emptied bucket down and cradled her wobbly belly. "I — I can't stomach any more," she panted and sagged to her knees.

Anosthea angled her hip and drew close a coil of her long tail, giving herself leverage to righten up. She smirked and pointed with the handle of her whip.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? You know what the little flask is for, don't you? That's my gift to the mean shrew. Bottoms up!"

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Menena swallowed the tangy mouthful of potion and shuddered in revulsion. Moments later, the shudder returned, spreading through her whole body. The blueish veins that had barely shown through her pale skin grew thicker, bulging across the tumid orb of her belly. Spreading from her navel, her skin flushed and groaned. Heat started burning inside her as the potion dissolved in the liquid overfilling her stomach. The mixture of milk and magic soaked into her fleshy midriff. The round protrusion dominating her front lost some of its pumped-up shape, sagged lower and spread towards her womb. The ragged tunic groaned now that any hint of wrinkles had disappeared from the cloth. Menena's hands rubbed frantically over her swelling stomach.

"Gods, I'm — I'm bloating! I'm — uhhhh! — stretching — growing — mercy!"

"Now it'll all fit, easily. Drink. It." Anosthea leaned forward, licking her lips. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as the kneeling woman obeyed and raised the bucket once again.

As Anosthea stared, her throat, dry with arousal, mimicked every swallowing motion of her increasingly desperate visitor. Gulp by gulp, Menena's distending midriff accepted the remaining half a gallon of the first bucket. She panted and moaned, staggering to her haunches on the coarse pebbles. Her womb slapped down on her thighs. Her massive breasts pushed down on the rubbery ball from above, and her legs blocked the way from below. The flushed navel popped out like a third nipple and stayed that way even as the wandering waves across her stretched skin calmed down. Menena gasped for air and inhaled deeply. The sudden surge in size overwhelmed the old fabric stretching taut around her spherical belly. The cloth gave way with a screeching noise and split in a line extending up and down from her navel. The frayed edge crept over the pale, distending skin swelling through the gap. Anosthea's eyes were fixed on the sight of the thin-skinned orb that obliterated the worn cloth with ease.

"And it's just the first bucket," she whispered. A wave splashed against the fold between her buttocks, and she shuddered with arousal. Louder she commanded, "Go on, what are you waiting for?"

"Yes, Mistress," panted her obedient slave.

Menena grabbed the second serving with trembling hands. Her lips touched the coarse rim. Milk spilled over her cheeks and ran down into the funnel of her cleavage, then in winding rivulets over her belly's orb. Not a drop went to waste; her skin hungrily soaked up the surplus and added it to the sphere of milk.

"Yes," moaned the wide-eyed mermaid, mesmerized by the swelling, already barely human-looking orb creature that Menena slowly turned into. Every mouthful added to her immense girth. Little remained of the cloth. It tore more open with every passing drop and every passing second, already unveiling the horizontal fold where the pair of Menena's huge yet dwarfed breasts, still contained in the last rags of the rough tunic, rested on the bloated ball. The first glistening stretch marks spread like thin cobwebs from her navel. Their mesh widened quickly. Menena's larynx pumped up and down as she forced huge gulps of her liquid obsession down her throat.

The second pail clattered to the ground. Despite the afternoon heat, cold sweat coated the raven's face. Her hands measured up the orb that stretched far beyond the size of any imaginable pregnancy from her body. It lifted the top of her breasts almost to the height of her shoulders and had them wobbling with every heavy breath like bags of water draped to the left and right over the round monstrosity.

"I'll — urrrp! — never make — the third," stammered Menena. Her head dangled and her gaze danced unsteadily. She licked her lips. Every single quiver and wave fueled a budding arousal that wrapped her thoughts in a layer of milky fog. Tiny drops of her bitter honey seeped out between her legs.

"Oh, I know your belly's quite full now," chuckled the mermaid. She pushed herself up and continued, "Yet you will drink it, understood? See, I've grown a bit tired of our Feeder's taste. I want a taste of you, queen of evil. So I took some liberties. That potion you swallowed, it's not like the times before. I sneaked in a bit of a juice that'll let us have fun today." She licked her lips. "You'll make lots of milk, all for me. You'll have thick and brimming udders within minutes, and I won't let you go until I've squeezed them dry. Oh, you'll beg me to. Oh yes." Her breath came faster, and she pouted involuntarily as she imagined the sight of the milk source that Menena was about to become.

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Anosthea slithered behind the trembling woman and grabbed her shoulders. Menena was pulled backwards and gasped when her back made contact with the slippery tail. Her spine groaned as it turned into a reclining arch across the thick pulsating trunk of scale-coated muscles. The raven's breasts followed gravity and slipped higher until their soft shapes pancaked against her shoulders. Several fleshy inches thick and more than dish-sized in diameter, the heavy milk cakes moved under the frail tunic and quivered under Menena's agitated breathing.

The mermaid spread her webbed fingers wide and grabbed Menena's breasts, squeezing the malleable mammaries into balls the size of a small pumpkin. She licked her lips and ran her thumbs over the patches where small bumps in the cloth revealed the nipples.

"Mistress, your hands — oh please, so unchaste —"

"You, wailing about chastity? Now that's a laugh! And that's just the beginning. My, what little teats you have. Gonna fix that." Anosthea changed her grip, squeezing the left breast with one hand now. The textile's mesh widened, straining around the pale orb. Leaning in, Anosthea whispered an incantation towards the silver ring on her left hand. Its blue stone flashed as she ticked her right forefinger's talon against it, and the glow spread along the pointy nail.

"Big and hard, wasn't that how you always liked your things?" chuckled the mermaid. Menena convulsed as the curved claw pierced the cloth and dug deep into her left nipple. Not only did it burn like a red-hot needle, it carried with it a fiery itch that ate itself deeper into her breast.

"Aaagh! W—what — inside me!"

Anosthea pulled her nail back out. The glow was gone. She continued kneading the slowly flushing breast with both hands.

"Gonna spread it nice and deep all through your mam, y'know," she chuckled.

"Y—yes, mistress," gulped Menena. The itch filled her breast from the painfully hardening nipple all the way down to her ribs. She moaned. Her teat swelled suddenly, tenting its straining wrapper.

"Oh yes, coming along very nicely," grinned the mermaid. She felt the flesh growing firmer and the skin straining tauter around the milk factory in her clutch. Her hands switched sides. Seconds later, her sharp nail penetrated Menena's right nipple. "Got to keep you balanced, do I not?" she whispered, then exhaled with a delighted moan. Her fingers kneaded both of Menena's heavy breasts, and the strawberry nipples poked into her palms.

"Oooh, nice and big. Oh, they can handle lots and lots of milk now. Just need to put some more into those jugs, they're good for nothing while they're still so empty. I want to guzzle from your plump teats, and you're not yet full enough for that. Here now, dear. Taste a bit of motivation." The mermaid's eyes sparkled with greed as she forced Menena's jaws open with one hand while she raised a small ornamented flask. A single clear drop crept from its opening and fell into the ring of pouted lips. Menena jerked, and the sudden motion sent ripples over her pumped-up belly. Moments later, her mouth and throat were ablaze. She gasped for air. Her hands fumbled desperately for the third pail.

The mermaid smirked, tucked away the potion and raised the heavy bucket with ease. Menena tried to righten herself, but her belly was already too heavy for that demanding maneuver. She pouted and smacked like a carp, grabbed the wooden bucket as soon as it was in her hands' reach and tore it from her tormentor's grip. The first gush of milk spattered all over her face, then she opened her mouth until she almost unhinged her jaw. She caught the whole volume of the thick stream and seemed to turn her throat into a drain pipe.