Faeophobia: Spring Break Ch. 02

"Yes Daniel, I have decided to take control of our date." she replied in a flat, controlled voice.

"B-but..but...we're leaving? What about Dinner?" His hazel eyes were wide in surprise as she hauled him to his feet. Viviana paused.

"Hmmm yes, I nearly forgot dinner." with a pleasant smile, she picked up the delicate, crystal glass filled with sparkling champagne, and leisurely poured the drink all over the coppery skin of her naked breasts. "This is all the dinner you need, Dear Daniel."

The Maitre'de was about to call...well, someone...but was relieved that the slutty latina quickly left after exposing herself.

She couldn't wait for him to drive her anywhere; she needed to test him, to measure his worthiness before he would be allowed to take her anywhere. She took the car keys from his pocket, pushed Daniel into the Lexus, and folded back the seats to give them room. She took Daniel's hands and brushed his palms across her, down the hollow of her clavicle and shoulder, brought his lips to her breasts, that he might slurp the remains of the champagne that moistened her nipples. His moans of feverish delight only confirmed her new certainty.

His short-trimmed, brown beard tickled her breasts as she took stock of him; hazel eyes beneath a full head of hair, parted in the center, tall, almost lanky physique. A bit hairy; it reminded her of a savage beast that Viviana hoped he would become. She was no longer interested in his bank-account, the silly concerns of human women! Human women? Wasn't she human? What an odd thought.

"Here...is the deal....Daniel dear..." she breathed huskily, as the remnants of her cocktail dress seemed to evaporate, whilst straddling his hips, already tenting with the expression of his masculine potential. "If you wish to continue this date, or if you wish to ever go out with me again; you must be tested." His pants were gone now; his 7-inches of meat fully extended; a good sign!

"My family has always believed that a man should provide for his woman; and you must do the same. You Daniel, will provide me with sperm, all your sperm. You must cum three times; that is my new rule. If your sperm is enough, you will earn a second date."

It was best not to question such things. Daniel was afraid that to analyze, consider this new weirdness, for fear that it would end. Sometimes a man got lucky like this. Strange though, he was sure that Viviana never had eyes of such a brilliant green.

**********

It was time; her time. It was her chance to shine again, to be beautiful, desirable....powerful again! Violet was already accustomed to her condition; she had finished mourning what she could not change, and she was used to the stares. Before college, in those first months after her 'accident' Violet would never have worn the hot-pink bikini that now barely concealed her athletic figure. She, like so many others, would have been terminally embarrassed. But her shame never accomplished anything; her embarrassment could not give her hope.

So Violet had learned to take it in stride at first, ignoring the comments, the whispers, the slack-jawed stares. Soon, she became numb to the attention. I mean really, how could she expect people not to stare at magically-enlarged breasts only a little smaller than standard beach balls? There was no helping it; the clinical magicians didn't want to risk more magic to reduce her prodigious bosom, fearing complications from any attempt to reverse her 'Thaumaturgical Mammary Hypertrophy', the magical breast growth which was becoming all too tragically common these days.

She liked to roller-blade along beaches like this, to gather her thoughts and relax, as the sun and wind caressed her bronzed physique. She was something or somewhere around a Double K-cup, and just learning to walk again with her condition was almost as bad as paraplegic rehabilitation. But she was no longer constrained, no longer confined. Violet and others that suffered from accidental magical breast growth would not be denied. Too long, she and others like her hid themselves away, fearing any human contact in their abject shame. But no longer; those days were over. Women of preposterous endowments; as the media called them, were emerging from their basements, from the dark places they had been hiding. They would not spend the rest of their lives weeping with embarrassment, they would stand, and be counted. They would return to public life, and to hell with anyone that didn't like it! (Or those that liked them too much)

The preposterous udders flowed and swayed across the lithe human's chest; she had to walk with a sort of rhythm; to prevent the bosomy inertia of her tits from menacing passersby. But it was easy now, each day she was becoming more comfortable, more accepting of what she had brought upon herself with a dubious 'Super-Boob' potion, and what medical science could not correct. She could talk to people, and accept their stares without emotion, the lurid howls from the sickos that thought she was a walking wet dream no longer angered her.

Women like her, women like Violet had found ways to empower themselves; and that was why she was here. As surely as a 20th century bra would have been destroyed trying to contain the awesome expanse of her magic-powered mammaries, so too were women of preposterous proportions breaking the straps of shame, and embarrassment. She unfolded the newspaper clipping again, and smiled to herself. It had happened to her last year; when Violet woke-up one day and realized that she no longer wished for the accident to be reversed. She didn't really want to go back to her old, flatter self. She had accepted herself, and then allowed herself to take pride again.

4TH ANNUAL

INTERNATIONAL BODY FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF BREAST ENTHUSIASM

BOSOM BUILDING COMPETITION

COLLEGIATE CIRCUIT.

PANAMA CITY, FL.

The audacity had stunned the world; these women were now flaunting their magical deformities; declaring themselves not freaks, but rather people of 'fully-realized womanhood'. And their numbers were growing; any woman experimenting with cosmetic magic took the risk. They had researched their condition, their new breasts, and the misbegotten magic that endowed them; and while there was no reliable cure for 'T.M.H.', women had found remarkable means of controlling their bosoms; gaining mastery over them in a way not believed possible. And Violet had practiced ways to control her 'girls' and increase her mobility all the time.

Soon, Bosom-Building Competitions were broadcast on major television networks during primetime, amid much furor. And the World knew that this new 'sport' had achieved acceptance when some women, mediocre fitness models, decided to try their 'hand' in this new arena; there were women that deliberately over-dosed on fertility potions, knowing full-well the disaster that would result. 'The community' had found many ways to adjust their conditions, and Violet now had the means to alter the full size of her preponderous boobs, within some limits, and at last, she was getting her lactation under control! She only needed to milk herself an hour a day! And she felt she was ready; ready to become a 'fully-realized' woman. She had trained, she had prepared, she had done her homework. Violet's chest swelled yet more with pride, and accidentally bumped into a pixie on the sidewalk carrying a bag of groceries.

The Fae tumbled ingloriously into the sand, hotdogs, thick cigars, carrots, and cucumbers scattered. She blew a strand of purple hair out of her smooth, porcelain face. Wispy, translucent antennae unfurled nervously above her hairline.

"Oh my...I'm so sorry; Sometimes it's like they've got a mind of their own." quipped Violet, pointing to her culprit breasts, quivering upon her torso like frightened midgets. "Let me help you up..."

"I'm fine," replied the Pixie testily, fluttering the gossamer, diaphanous wings that sprouted from between her shoulder blades, which levitated her back onto her feet, the wispy wings far too small to support her in flight without some form of magic. "So what are you supposed to be, a bosom builder?" The purple-haired pixie spoke with a snide, superior tone.

"Yup; I'm a contender in the collegiates."

"Oh really?" The pixie seemed to take offense at this; maybe she was just upset over being boob-whacked. But then, Violet saw them. The fae girl, wearing a purple bikini no more substantial than Violet's seemed to puff out her chest, her grapefruit boobs gleaming in the sun; skin the color of polished marble. Wait...no, her breasts were rapidly filling out; approaching b...bowling ball size! The purple pixie stood unmoved, without the slightest hint of strain as her top-heavy anatomy continued far past the boundaries of normal human femininity. No hunching, no muscle spasms as inflating titflesh surged ever forward, her technique was flawless!

When a girl became the victim of runaway fertility magic, her breasts tended to leap and jerk in spasms, quivering as her womanly bounty multiplied, rending and shredding whatever unfortunate clothes were in their path. But not this time; the fairy female has achieved a perfect, seamless expansion technique as smooth as the sunrise. The swelling mounds, growing from melon-size, to bowling balls, onward to a bosomy volume as large as most safety helmets expanded in perfect proportion. It was as if Violet's eyes simply grew ever closer to the enchanted fairy breasts, the hint of a golden aureole creeping out from under her bikini top. Who was she? How did...

Oh wait...that face...those tits....Violet recognized this pixie! She was also a contender!

"Heeyyyy....I know you....Titaniaera, 1st place in the Collegiates 2 years ago...." Violet's eyes widened in recognition.

"*I* am Titaniaera, Crystal Dancer of the Rainbow Towers of 3rd Aglarond!" She seemed to savor her full, Fairy title. Violet shrugged. The convoluted politics of the Realm of Fairy were irrelevant; The Fae were forced to abandon their homes for Earth because of the waning magic. They would have to get used to the *real* world. Still, her title sounded important; whatever it meant, but here she was; having to buy her own groceries like anyone else. Heh.

"My friends call me Titty," continued the pixie, with a jiggle of her enchanted bosoms. "*You* can call me Titaniera." Her purple eyebrows arched with an imperious air, as she stepped forward; smoothly expanding teats soon equaling the human's own. So that's how it was eh? Hmm...the rumors were true then.

The Pixie known in the Breast Enthusiast community as Titty was infamous for the lingering cloud of ethics violations, arrogance, and outrageous sexual exploits. This was a more recent development; many Fae had become fascinated by the achievements of the Bosom Builders, and began bending their own magical prowess to compete with human women. In the Collegiate circuit, perhaps no one was more controversial than Titty. She was a pixie from San Francisco, a town where the Fae had flourished as never before; and while she had been cleared of the ethics violations, there was still suspicions.

She would be a formidable opponent; pixies were experts at size-altering magic, that was why she now had the full stature of a human adult, a very, very healthy adult human. Apparently, she had invested much of that magic in her breasts. Titty stood eye to eye with the tall, tanned, athletic human, (Violet had to be buffed to walk with 30-pound tits!) Purple eyes glared into each other, as the pixie's tits completed their inflation to equal the human's; bosoms pressing, cajoling against each other in a jiggly battle for mammalian supremacy.

"We'll see who the contender is, human..."

**********

Lies. So many lies. Professor Lily was walking....no...not here, here she was on vacation, Spring Break. She was free from the strictures and constraints of a university professor. Here she would be herself, here she would be the Fae that she truly was. Here she was just Lily. The warm sand caressed her bare toes as she luxuriated in her freedom. Despite all the pretenses of her office at Madison University, she was in essence the same sort of slut as the unicorn Cori, or her Pixie friend Lisa.

Life on Earth had been good to the forest nymph; with every sex-act, every time one of her human students impregnated her with a shot of hot semen within the willing folds of her flowery cunt, her connection to the magical life-blood of the planet increased; and Lilywas caught in a vicious circle; the more sex she had, the more fertile she became. Every birth only served to increase her magical fecundity. And now, as happened to many Fae, she had started to youthen dramatically over several months. Not uncommon, but it became something of a dilemma for the serious, career-minded fairy.

Important humans in the modern world just couldn't bring themselves to respect a creature with a voice like a canary singing soprano, and the fresh face of a girl just out of high-school. (Not to mention porn-star boobs) While human women tried creams and salves to appear younger, many fae that desired respect created a market for a line of products that made them appear older. Many professional Fae insisted such deception was essential to be considered for a job more lofty than prostitution or pornography.

But here, at last....on the sandy beaches of Florida, Lily the Forest Nymph had cast off all such illusions. Caustic creams and tiny adhesive strips to make her appear to be a woman over 30 had been washed away; the nubile nymph was a fresh-faced as a Freshman, blending in perfectly with the hedonistic humans, and the Fae that were....well, just being Fae. Of course, no human professor from her College would consider joining students on their Spring Break, but that was just the sort of attitude that Lily wished to escape from.

She intended to explore her true nature, and her new goddess-powers. It was a chance to reconnect with her nymph nature. Even before arriving, The Drive had grown stronger. As a creature infused with the essence of nature's fertility, Lily had a primal urge to increase life for its own sake. Most humans eventually had a desire to have children, but for the Nymphs, it was far greater. She felt a yearning to not only reproduce, but to cause others to breed as well. She could not explain to a human the ecstasy that came when creatures under her influence began to produce new life, except that it was an addictive feeling, and more a selfish pleasure than anything else.

That was why Lily had slipped into the Beach Party behind the Tropical-Motif restaurant. She had seen a chuckling, cocky young man spiking the fruit punch with some sort of potent alcohol; a prank of some sort? She decided to improve upon his meddling. When no one was watching, the Professor took the opportunity to pull the center of her white bikini, exposing a rosy nipple just long enough to lace the punch with the milk from her own EE-cup, honeydew-melon breasts. Lily needed to know, she needed to see what her new powers could achieve. That was how the orgy started.

It's a funny thing about magic. Sometimes, you know full well that a spell is compelling you, but that won't help you resist it. Yes, the Co-eds knew that the explosion of primal lust that engulfed them must have been from a spell, but your desire to obey the magic's control was no less that the desire to obey your own will. Her goddess-powers enabled her to tweak the libidos of the mixed crowd of humans, that combined with her breast milk seemed to corrupt their very souls; minds snapped beneath the full fury of the rutting frenzy.

Amazing! Now that she had achieved...what was that word? Apotheosis? Whatever the leprechaun had told her, the Orgies that Lily could cause had become thoughtlessly easy. Not only where the handsome, well-muscled students thrusting and grinding into each others genitalia like the world was coming to an end, but the magic adjusted their anatomies so that the sexcapades could continue long beyond the limits of human endurance.

There came a collective groan from six frat-brothers as they disengaged from the willing, welcome pussies that had enveloped their rigid members in surprise. The blond, lithely muscled boys found their cocks growing with each coupling; for every impregnation, they became only more potent. And more lustful...gripping cocks that ruled them like the rudder of a ship, they began steering themselves into the moist depths of female lips more than eager to accept their throbbing, fleshy torpedoes.

A brunette and a redhead girl, freshmen most likely, writhed in forbidden ecstasy upon the sands, bikinis quickly shed. They grunted with shock and surprise as they felt their own hips widening in leaps and spurts. Asses ballooned, and pelvises expanded with throaty grunts as a mighty spell prepared them not just for breeding, but for the bearing of truly vast litters of children. Wide, child-bearing hips would serve them well in their new life as breeding sluts.

The redhead knew that she always wanted to go to college, become a lawyer, put-off even the question of kids until after 30; but that was before. Twisting, quivering, as her brain was sautéed in a stew of sexual hormones, she knew that her life had been changed forever. Yes, this was clearly magic, but that didn't matter to her; her knew destiny was not litigation, but prostration, as she spread her legs for the many, many men that would seed her womb. It was with happiness that she looked towards her new life, on her back like the breeding whore she was.

The brunette's name was Stacy, and she tore away the bikini bottom, raising her ass in the air with a timeless invitation for bestial rutting. The sound that emanated from her throat was half-grunt, half-scream as she thumped her palm against the sand; announcing her availability to...well....everyone. She was growing impatient....where there no cocks ready to knock her up with the first of her many young? Even now, she felt her hips and ass continue to widen and swell slightly, and she exulted in her transformation into an ideal brood-mare. All she needed was a hard cock to....Ahhh....

*SCLOONK*

Her pussy, moistened by the erotic stimulation of her transformation accepted the entire 8-inch shaft with a single thrust! A howl of inarticulate delight tore itself from her throat as the link was made. The Brunette felt connected to all time, to all life by the rod that penetrated her. Her mate grasped her thighs for better purchase as he ground himself up to the hilt within the frothing sea of female bliss splayed before him. Muscles jerking, she pushed back against him. Let him never think that her lust was any less! She stretched herself around his rod, hoping that through her willingness, she could encourage him to screw with yet greater intensity.

Should Stacy look? Should she turn around and see the face of her bare-back rider? She debated with herself whether it was necessary to look upon the face of the man about to seed her womb with his potent essence. It didn't seem important; there was no one at this party that she would reject, they were all fine specimens. Her Mate was athletic at least; bunches of corded muscles pressed against her thigh as he thrust yet again, and he was a bit hairy. His flesh...warm...warmer than usual...his penis seemed to dance and quiver within her more often than other men. Yet he was suitable. He had what she needed, and there was no man here she would reject, for the fires burning in her blood told her that he was the first of many.

**********

She would have to forego the luxury. For most mermaids, one of the most sublime pleasures of the beach was sunning herself; allowing your scales to soak up the sunlight, feeling the lingering warmth as they trapped the heat enveloping her flesh like a soothing glove. And indeed, Mariana was not the only Mermaid here today, with that intent.