Sisters of Sodom

Then she looked at his angular face, noticing his warm, slightly detached expression. Of course, without Eudora there, she had no idea what the man was saying, so she merely chuckled girlishly and stared at him.

"Oh, a shy one huh? There's no need to be shy here, darling. I saw you lookin' at me earlier. Care for a private session?" he asked with the tone of a salesman, charming yet tentative.

Again, the feral young girl has no clue how to respond, so she simply said, "Umm...jeg heter Sølvi..." and beamed expectantly. The man seemed a little surprised, but nodded quickly.

"Ah, I see. You're new to this country, eh? European? You look German."

Sølvi dimly understood what "European" implied, and quickly shook her head no. "Jeg er Vikinger!" she said proudly, almost offended that anyone would mistake her for anything else.

The man just laughed perplexedly and ventured to pat her on the shoulder. "That's alright baby. Come, I'll show you a good time, free of charge. Donations greatly appreciated, of course..."

Sølvi looked back unsurely at Eudora, who was casually glancing at her while sipping an overpriced cocktail. The punk pythoness merely waved the girl away, mouthing the words, "enjoy."

She knew she had to keep an eye on Sølvi in the event that she did anything rash or unexpected, but she also knew that too much hovering would inhibit the girl. So she just waited patiently, sending icy vibes to anyone who came too close to her. To kill time, she contemplated her ongoing journey.

Despite the loss of her notebook, she still had crucial arcana committed to memory. The most important piece being the general location of the final artifact—which, to her great distaste, was apparently to be found in an Ethiopian desert.

Ugh, I am so not looking forward to going to that sweltering shithole, she thought to herself. Couldn't the Divine Ones have planted some artifacts in North America, for crying out loud?

Although she relished the trip even less than her last, she was in too deep to turn back now. No matter what, she would make the trip even if it meant dragging Sølvi with her. Without a map, things would be tough, but with a little witchy intuition she figured she could manage.

Grabbing a nearby napkin, she pulled out a pen and began to jot down the fragments of information she could still recall concerning her next destination: northernmost point of the Afar Triangle, center of the star of Cafar-Barro, the well beneath Haled Ema, Ugugumo rebels in the mines...

Meanwhile, her viking companion was finding it hard to resist the advances of the man before her. Despite being unsure of what he was proposing, she felt herself becoming wooed by him rather quickly. He gently put his arm around her waist and guided her past the loud dance floor towards a long narrow hall lined with lockable doors.

On either side, she could hear all manner of moans, laughter, and squeaks of titillation, and she quickly intuited what might happen next. The thought only aroused her more, and as the man swung the door at the end of the hall open, she found herself rushing into it.

"See? Your shyness is fading already," the man said as he closed the door and turned the lock. Sølvi's crystal blue eyes moved quickly, taking in the small but cozy room. Plush red leather couches lining the corners, a glass table with various booze laying about, a few plants, a modest entertainment center, and a small sink.

The girl snatched a bottle of rum from the table and sniffed it. Approving, she guzzled a liberal amount straight from it. Some of the dark alcohol trickled down her chin and dripped to the floor, but she did not mind. The fiery feeling in her throat enlivened her.

"Oh, you're a wild one eh?" the man said with a little laugh. "It's always the quiet ones..."

Laughing, she took yet another swig, downing almost half bottle in one large gulp, then she belched aloud. Eudora did say that almost everything was allowed here, of course, and now she truly hoped this was so. She then passed the bottle to the man.

"Ah, no thank you, darling. If I have any of that, I won't be able to do my job..." he said, visibly somewhat taken aback by the girl's crude behavior. He reached out to rub her arm. "Now don't get too tipsy, Swiss Miss. I want you to remember this..."

He came closer, and, synching to the tempo of the music blasting from nearby, he began to swerve his toned thighs, grinding against her. "You can touch me, baby," he said, grabbing her stubby hand and placing it on his biceps.

Sølvi gasped, feeling incredibly aroused now. The taut muscle against her rough fingertips flexed slightly, assuring her of its authenticity. She found herself pawing at his impressive physique, her breathing increasing in tempo.

He continued to dance against her, his flaccid yet notable manhood grazing her inner thigh through the thin cloth of his thong. She wanted that package so badly now, but not before stealing a sweet kiss, standing on her tiptoes to reach his broad lips.

She thought to reach lower now, but a problem suddenly arose. Her "secret" was now growing rapidly, and it she felt it struggling against tight denim. She began to panic, but before she could think of what to do next, her crotch began to emit a powerful golden glow that lit up her black cargo pants like a lantern.

"Whoa. What..." the man started, taking a step back. Sølvi could no longer stand the immense pressure building behind her restrictive clothing. Her hands flew to the hem of her pants and yanked them downwards.

"Holy shit," the man exclaimed the minute he laid eyes on the inhumanly large, glowing girl-cock that sprung up from between the girl's pale thighs.

"I-I'm sorry...ma'am, or..." he stuttered in disbelief, shielding his eyes from the bioluminescent organ that grew ever larger before him. "I don't know how to...no offense, but this isn't my specialty. Listen, I should probably go..."

Sølvi understood his tone of voice, if not his words, and her eyes fell to the floor in sudden despair. "My apologies, enjoy your night ma'am..." he said politely as he could muster before exiting the room posthaste.

She lurched towards the doorway, desperately begging the man to return, her large erect penis crackling with energy. She knew this man did not mean to insult her, but his rejection of her hurt all the same. Why must she shoulder such a burden? Would even this world's strongest men, these so-called "titans," refuse to lay with her because of it?

But there would be time for remorse later. A feeling other than sadness overtook her now; a fiery, agitated lust. She'd felt this before, but never so strongly. And now she needed release, no matter what.

It was at that moment that Eudora felt an immense disruption in her energy field. Alarmed, she slammed her cocktail down and shoved her notes into her bag, then leapt off her stool. She nearly mowed down the gussied-up women and gyrating hunks in her way as she rushed towards the private rooms in the back. She simply had to investigate this sudden burst of magical energy, even if it meant interrupting something intimate.

But the timing her reappearance could not have been any more consequential. As she rounded the corner, a blinding light assaulted her. She dropped her handbag and shielded her eyes with her wrists. "Jesus, Sølvi! What the fuck is going on here?!" she yelled.

"I am so sorry, pretty heks! I cannot control this!" Sølvi cried out as she staggered towards the punk witch. "Such strong urges have invaded my mind...I-I wanted that titan to lay with me, to make me feel like a woman. But..." she said, then paused and looked down at the luminous member jutting from her body. "Then it awoke, and..."

"Jesus! Just jerk off or whatever you have to do, okay? This was obviously a fucking waste of time," Eudora grumbled, averting her eyes. "When you're done, just meet me out front. This place sucks anyway..."

The punk pythoness started back out the door. She thought to slam it shut behind her so as not to create a scene, but she didn't get that far. Some kind of force was now slowing down her movements dramatically.

Sølvi twitched spastically, then her head quickly shot up, sending her long blonde hair whipping back. When her large blue eyes fell back upon Eudora, they were filled with deep wanting.

"Pretty heks...there is no time..." she started, her voice a low growl. "You must...appease it..."

"Appease it?!" Eudora exclaimed.

Sølvi hunched over as if in pain. "Please, you must..." she repeated, then twitched again, her eyes rolling back into her head for a moment before again returning to Eudora's shrinking form. "Y-you must...appease it...there is no time left..."

As their eyes locked, Eudora discovered that the mystic force flowing from Sølvi's body was not so much overpowering as it was irresistible. Had she truly wanted to break free of it, she could have probably mustered the energy, but there was a crazy thought competing for attention with contrary ones in her mind, and it appeared to be winning out.

The first golden bead of precum visible at the head of Sølvi's monstrous appendage spoke of immense power. And to a power-hungry pythoness, there were few things more desirable than such energy, even if its method of delivery required a muting of one's own dignity...

Eudora found herself stepping closer to the girl, at first with a confused reluctance, then with a sudden thirst. That glimmering droplet collecting at the peak of Sølvi's member spoke of the kind of energy Eudora sought after with a vampiric rapaciousness. If she couldn't yet figure out how to take that belt from the girl, then at least she could absorb some of its magic in...other ways.

She dropped to her knees. Sølvi looked down at her, her face exhibiting shades of confusion, arousal and shame all at once. She did not want to see Eudora like this, a woman whom she thought of as a friend and possibly even role model.

The belt around her hips had no such pretenses, however. It saw clearly that Eudora was no friend, no role model, but rather quite the opposite. The sacred Viking rage that coursed through it had only one desire: to use this vile punk pythoness as a receptacle for its mighty seed.

But such an abhorrent woman did not deserve to carry this seed to her womb. Any child born of such a confluence would surely be an abomination. And so, Sølvi's girl-cock instead sought the witch's foul mouth for relief. It drew her forward with a magnetic attraction, making her crawl on her hands and knees to it.

The punk pythoness could not believe that she had already to begun groveling for a taste of it under her breath. She could no longer look Sølvi in the eyes now, and instead focused on the object of her desire, which had now grown to well over two feet in length.

Eudora finally reached it. Its light seared her retinas, piercing into her very psyche. That same violent, chaotic energy she'd felt running through the fortress walls of Signekjerringøyathe was now focused to a white-hot pinpoint before her, smoldering with potency. As she took it in both hands, her heart began thumping against her breast like a war drum.

It felt ominously heavy and hot in her fingers. Without hesitation her red lips flew to its peak, straining to accept Sølvi's pulsing penis.

She began to suckle upon it desperately, pulsing flesh filling every square inch of her mouth. Its girth was such that it jacked her jaw painfully wide, straining the edges of her red lips painfully, but this did not deter her; her greed knew no bounds.

"Give it to me! Give it to me!" Eudora commanded as the first few droplets of the girl's sacred nectar swiped free on her tongue. The bracingly piquant flavor was unlike any the punk pythoness had ever sampled; she found it instantly and maddeningly addictive.

There was nothing she craved more now than a full serving of it. She began to suckle even more vigorously, fighting back the urge to retch as the Viking girl's engorged mushroom head encroached upon her gag reflex.

With determination Eudora drew a deep breath into her nose. Holding the air there in her burning lungs, she then forced her head forward. The corners of her mouth began to bleed as her lips struggled to stretch around Sølvi's phallus. With a loud gurgle, she violently forced her head forward again, feeling the stiff flesh finally slide down into her windpipe, blocking it completely.

Even this did not even begin to cover a fraction of of Sølvi's member, but it was enough to send the first true shockwaves of pleasure through the girl, and in automatic response she tugged two fistfuls of Eudora's fluffy black hair towards her.

Slobber began to ooze from the punk pythoness's lips as the sweetness of Sølvi's flesh was drawn deeper into her yawning gullet. Both pythonesses were fully enraptured now, their minds torn completely from this earthly plane.

The primal slurps and smacks that filled the air eventually faded to silence, and the world around them seemed to become nothing but a blank piece of paper upon which their momentary symbiosis was being drawn.

This would normally feel like a degrading experience for Eudora—here she was, the brashest, baddest, most beautiful pythoness in recent history...reduced to this. And all because she lacked the wiles to truly acquire the Viking artifact. In this moment, even her massive ego could not flourish in the Eir light that enshrouded them both.

With her inhibitions momentarily suppressed, Eudora merely continued to bob her head harshly, her nails digging into the throbbing veins as she sucked the largest dick in history.

In this state, she hardly noticed at first when her mouth became fastened around it. But as Sølvi's hips bucked forth suddenly, Eudora felt her lips press inward painfully, as if they'd been glued to the fleshy surface.

"It...it is erupting!" the Norwegian girl cried aloud, terrified of herself. Her hands left Eudora's head, clasping her own bosom. Before Eudora could react, she felt a torrent of semen begin to gush directly down her throat.

The amount of fluid quickly overcame her; gallons of hot semen were being unloaded into Eudora's belly at a very rapid rate, causing it to inflate painfully. She tried to cry out, but the flesh sealed her mouth, and this instead caused cum to spring from her nostrils like a fountain. The pearly secretion oozed down her chin, dripping down to her expensive (and new) catsuit and staining it indelibly.

"I...am sorry...!" Sølvi groaned as she gripped her large milky-white breasts tighter, squeezing their thick peaks through the colorful cloth of her designer shirt. Meanwhile Eudora was quickly becoming absolutely clogged with semen, her stomach ballooning to obscene proportions.

But with this came exactly what Eudora had hoped for—a surge of new power. She felt the life energy of Sølvi's sacred belt flow into her own body now, the souls of millions of fallen men, their hopes, their dreams, their obsessions, she tasted them all, devouring them with relish.

Yet even the intoxicating effects of the cum could not obscure the insidious side-effects taking hold. In less than a minute, Eudora had already become absolutely obese. It wasn't just her hugely bloated, sagging stomach; her entire body had puffed up to over twice her regular weight.

Although the infusion had granted her a momentary feeling of euphoria, it seemed that even the Norse gods themselves spat upon Eudora's petty ambitions, and as her senses came back to her slowly, she began to realize that the power high she'd experienced was not only short-lived, but a far cry from what could be wielded if she truly owned that belt.

"Oh no..." Sølvi suddenly exclaimed, shaking her head in a drunken daze.

"Excuse me. Ladies, ladies. You two can't do this here," Eudora suddenly heard from behind her. It was a man's voice, gruff and dispassionate.

Finally able to pull her lips free, her enormous bloated body swung around, her gut producing a sloshing sound as she did. Her eyes fell upon a security guard holding a silver key in his hand.

"Just the rules," the man said, averting his eyes. "Don't mean to interrupt, but this room isn't a vacancy. You can't be in here without accompaniment by a staff member..."

"Get out, you bastard!" Eudora spat, almost belching semen. Her sensibilities pulled back into reality, the utter humiliation of being seen like this filled her with homicidal rage. She tried to stand up, but found her new body to be sluggish and cumbersome.

The semen swished around her large gut again as she lumbered forth on her knees. She felt around herself; there was cum lingering even in her raven hair, matting it to her newly-formed double chin.

"Ma'am," the burly black-clad guard started impatiently, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You too, blondie. Both of you. Out." By then, the glow had faded away from Sølvi's cock, and she had managed to pull up her pants before the man managed to give them a more concerted glance.

But the experience had sapped her dry, as had the massive amount of rum she'd drank, and she felt her stout legs buckle. She then fainted, collapsing on the rug face-first.

"To hell with you!" Eudora yelled, then she fixed the guard with a look of pure hatred. Her fury overcame her, and she impulsively cast a spell that sent the man's entire body up in blue flames.

Even his screams of pain did not comfort her, however, and she cast yet another spell on his rapidly disintegrating body that only prolonged his suffering. His seared flesh slowly hardened into stone, creating a permanent statue of agony. As it calcified, she spat upon it and then went over to Sølvi.

She heard a bit of commotion in the hallway. But she did not worry about the authorities this time. Nobody would believe that disfigured stone figure on the floor used to be an employee at this seedy venue. And even if they did, there would be no way for them to prove it was her doing.

Still, she knew it best not to linger. And she knew that belt wasn't coming off the girl yet, even in her passed-out state, so she pulled Sølvi up and dragged her out the door.

"She had too much to drink," Eudora mumbled to the dead-eyed guards out front. In her dumpy, cum-inflated state, she was barely recognizable to them. Yet another of her precious catsuits had been sacrificed, this one irreparably stretched and torn at the seams, leaving her almost indecently exposed.

She didn't want to waste any magic teleporting them both back to Gary's apartment, so she simply flagged down a taxi and fought back the urge to murder the driver as she gave him the address: "8292 10th avenue. Now."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

A BLOATED EGO

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The shower head loomed above her, eyelike and noisy, lashing her flesh with its ceaseless stream of ice-cold water. In her catatonic state, she could barely feel it. The fact that she could barely fit in the tub was the only thing registering on her mind, and it was a form if disgrace she honestly had no idea how to cope with.

The edges of the tub compressed her thighs and arms, pleating her fat and folding her body inward. She felt utterly unlike herself. This is not me, she said to herself. This is not my body. This disgusting blob clinging to my bones...this can't be me.

With a sudden burst of rage, she slammed her meaty fist against the wall, cracking the tile slightly and sending a loud boom throughout the house. "No!" she exclaimed as chipped porcelain dislodged itself from the wall and fall into the water around her. Her knuckles began to bleed, but she felt no pain there.

All of her anguish was focused solely on the large, doughy physique she'd been saddled with, the product of her greed. She knew that vindictive Viking seed still lingered in her body, its magic sustaining her obesity. Her mind flew from one possibility to another, desperately trying to figure out the best and swiftest course of action.