Chapter 3

The hallways of the Over Fortress resounded with the proud steps of Suzana. At her fifty-eight years of age, the Over Madre didn’t feel one day past her prime. «I have plateaued nothing but five years ago. My power has stopped increasing, but it has decreased not one bit since then.» The woman walked with her head up high and her shoulders wide and strong, feeling every strand of muscle, every tendon flex and contract as she moved. To feel her body like that, so strong, so powerful, so alive, was a thing of wonder, and it helped the fierce female carry herself through a task that, under any normal circumstance, would have been pretty humiliating. «I am one of the highest ranking Maidens in all of Gaia. My power knows little rivals. There is no shame in servicing these two students, who are, by all accounts, goddesses among women.» Despite her strong words and even stronger gait, there was a gulp, and the warrioress couldn’t help but stagger a bit. «Goddesses ... among demigoddesses!»

The hallways unfurled into yet more hallways, each wider than the widest avenues of the world’s biggest surviving cities, and often feeling so long that those who wandered through them wondered whether they were walking across the entire country, or along the length of the entire mountain chain which bound it so fiercely to the Earth.

As she walked, the brave matron looked around openly, not ashamed to gawk at the wealth and splendor of the palace. «Fortress, we call it, but perhaps we just want to be humble. Every bit of the Academy is a fortress, even without one soul in place.» As the goddess crossed hallway after hallway, she felt her powerful glutes jumping up and down, her mighty legs tightening and her incredible thighs rubbing (sometimes too painfully) against one another—the friction of that meat-against-meat action enough to produce smoke and ambers when she wanted. «This palace once belonged to women like me. Now ... it belongs to two students.»

Her heart couldn’t quite know how to deal with those words as she walked, though her mind—as was the mind of all Maidens—was supremely intelligent and doted with enough self-awareness (and her soul with self-control) to know very well those trapping of jealously: the supreme mother, atop her noblest of ages, envied those two younglings who, as soon as they Blossomed, practically became the owners of that palace—a palace which, before them, belonged only to women of even higher standing and greater age than hers. “There’s no way to deny it.” She shook her head and spoke aloud. “I am burning with jealousy.”

As she took one detour, doors of pure glass were spread open by her mere presence, and the cold wind of the mountains met an unsurmountable resistance on her skin, burning instantly and creating the densest vapor around her frame. “Oh. Oh, goddess.” Smelling the fumes of her own body temperature, the goddess lost her eyes to the beauty of the place, and all of the night sky shone with blues and purples, the aurora dancing above her head and the moon seemingly growing bigger, coming closer to her. “This beauty ... this is something I will never get tired of.” Her heart was gnawed on by little demons of jealousy as she allowed herself a brief pause and a reclining over the vast baluster on one side of the bridge. From there, the warrioress of steel overlooked the southern slopes of the Louisianne Spread—a series of smaller mountain chains that spread out southward from the Orora Crack of the greater Imelda Chain.

Like branches of a vast, opulent tree, this smaller chain of mountains spread out seemingly into the horizon, with only a handful of terrains in the entire visible country smooth enough for cultivation, habitation, or any productive activity at all. From where she stood, neat the top of the planet, she could see how the entire Maiden Country was like a Maiden’s body: hard and ridden with veins. And calm and peaceful as well. «Here, nothing can affect us.» She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling her body empowered by the air, and every bit of work in her cells and every flow of her blood through every mighty vessel became so clear in her mind, the absolutely godly machinery of her body working in perfect harmony, her very existence being the apotheosis of life in all of the Universe. «Very feel things can ever affect a Maiden, honesty be spoken, but here, above all ... we truly are as gods upon the world.» She beheld the mountain chains lovingly, adoring their plethora of colors and the delicate music they made with the wing howling through their endless crevices.

The sun, the stars, and the galaxy above her rained down with utter majesty upon that land, like a waterfall of colors, and upon contact with the mountains their light spread out in a visual splash, a tsunami of pleasant hues, and at that moment Suzana beheld what she thought to be the most beautiful—and most feminine—combination of colors possible: purples, blues, and greens mixing with the perfect white of the moon and the stars, and the perfect black of the night beyond the farthest reaches of the chain. There was golden there, yes, and the most beautiful golden of all, indeed, coming from the countless vast windows of that marble-and-pearl palace, but the golden too, quite a masculine color, was dominated by the many torches and more subtle, hard-to-identify lights that, like the nature around, shone in feminine blues, greens, and lavenders.

The entire place was a spectacle scarcely any painter could ever come up with. The only thing that came close to comparing was the wild imagination of electronic game designers—and even then these professionals could never quite truly match the sheer scale, the mind-boggling size of that place. “All of this,” she spoke aloud and without fear, “for only two students!” Maidens-in-Training still ranked as the most powerful creatures on the planet, yes, but even then...! “It’s an insult.” She looked sadly up to the moon, almost as if finding there the Primordial Goddess of all women. “But it is as Mother Nature willed.” She felt, for the briefest of instants, probably the rarest feeling any Maiden could get—the feeling of impotence!—but a second later it was all passed, and she accepted herself in the grand scheme of things. «It must be indeed an honor to serve these that the tongues say are going to become our goddesses.» She looked at her shoulders, seeing their size and insane width, and her breasts weighed with pride. «A mature warrioress like myself may never feel such a sincere devotion. Not without a tanker’s worth of jealousy.» She sighed, returning her eyes to the awesome clear moon. “Alas, alas. If one bad thing comes with age, I guess it’s this: a shameful load of arrogance!”

By her side, coming from her opposite direction, came another Madre to greet her respectfully. “Over Madre, Lady of my Heart.” The younger mare stopped and bowed, putting one arm across her body, under her bountiful breasts. “My soul dances with joy upon your sight.”

“The blessing of the goddesses be with you, sister Pamela. Well, goddesses, in this sense, I mean those.” She pointed up. “Those who live on the moon. As for the goddesses we serve here, in this palace, that’s another matter altogether.” She began to move away from the baluster, but sister Pamela hastily intervened:

“No, mighty mother, no need to! I was just passing by.” She approached the mighty woman instead, lowering her head at every step as a sign of her devotion. “Beloved mother, song of my soul, my real beating heart, is there anything you desire of me?”

“Nothing, my sister. Other than a hug.”

Out from her rich, finely adorned tunic, Suzana moved her arm to pull Pamela by her shoulder, and upon contact she felt her sister shiver and squeal, shuddering with excitement upon being blessed by such a superior female.

“M-mighty mother, this is t-too much!” Her eyes were moist and her face was exuberant. “What an arm you have!”

“I know. I love showing these babies whenever I have the chance.” She pulled Pamela even closer, her muscles making a symphony of deep, loud roars as she did, like thousands of tires being rubbed against one another. The virile arm, so pearly white, shone so perfectly under the moon, which revealed there was not one imperfection on that long, muscular limb. Not a single one. Only perfect, absolute power! “Have our goddesses—the ones who live in this palace that is—asked about me or anything?”

“N-no, my beloved master. I have n-no idea what the ... t-t-the...!” She had to work hard to control her shuddering. “The goddesses, hmm ... I have no idea what they wish of you, if anything.” Pamela played with her hair, whose auburn color meshed so well on that blue-and-purple night. “Are they waiting for something?”

“Yes. For me.” The goddess breathed in and looked up, cuddling the side of Pamela’s body very lovingly. “I hope I am not making them wait. I just decided to take a shortcut and admire the surroundings.”

“Oh, m-mother...” Pamela blushed. “I do that also, as well, many, many times.”

“‘Tis a beautiful part of the palace, this is, isn’t it?”

Pamela was about to eagerly say “yes”, but then she restrained herself, as if to think better or straighter, and then, upon thinking, she lost herself in thoughts, becoming visibly confused and almost dazed, as if her brain had just been fried by an excess of information, too much data all at once. “Speaking to you with honesty,” she eventually managed to say, “it’s all beautiful. Every inch of this palace is just ... oh...” She raised one hand to her breast, helping herself control her breath. “Oh! It’s overwhelming just thinking about it!”

“Indeed. You’ve got a point. This part is gorgeous, but so is every other part of this splendid abode, you’re right. Can you believe that the Academy itself doesn’t have these many vistas, or this lavish a design? At least not like this, so dense and concentrated?”

“Oh, my lady, you speak quite unfairly of our holy school. The central valley is gorgeous regardless. All its buildings are a thing of wonder.”

“Indeed, indeed. I guess I am speaking a lot of nonsense tonight, am I not?”

“Never, my mother.” Pamela put herself a the tip of her toes and smooched her master on the cheek. “Every word you utter is perfection.”

“You enjoying yourself around here, aren’t you?”

Pamela’s eyes seemed to have doubled in size, and the water they were carrying—almost on the verge of tears—made them shine like two translucent pearls the size of oranges. “Every day’s an orgasm. Oh, my lady, sorry for my rather crude words, but ... this is really how I feel!” She hopped like a body, giving the lowest squeals of delight with every hop. “I feel like I never stop climaxing.”

“Indeed. Younger sisters such as yourself always feel this wonder.” The huge matriarch laid one elbow on the rail, then her chin on her knuckle, and sighed pensively. “One bad thing that comes with power is something of an insensibility to this type of jovial wonder. A ... desensitization, I guess you would call it. We are naturally desensitized to this state of permanent bliss, which has the useful effect of making us very competent at dealing with such wondrous things, inhabiting such paradisical environment without getting too lost or distracted by them. After all...” She sighed. “This is why I was summoned to serve the goddesses.” And again she sighed, letting go of her little sister—and hearing her tiny squeals of protest as she did. “But, anyway, power plus age is an especially deadly thing in our kind. You will know, little sister, once you get to your fifties.”

“Oh, mother.” Pamela constantly reached out to her matron, wanting to get a feel again of the awesome muscles of her ripped, swollen arm. “I wish I could be so potent.” She acted a bit dramatic, a bit serious. “I am probably going to peak and my forties, and from them all decay into a life of honorable mediocrity.” Then... “Ouch!” She startled, then giggled upon receiving the Madre’s playful slap on her forehead.

A shockwave was formed around her head, and grew and popped until some several feet in diameter, causing a quick, high-pitched boom. The snow, which gently fell there, was stirred. It was easy to ignore, given the girls’ much giggling and jiggling, that even such a careless, mocking slap would have been enough to kill some five thousand humans or fifty to a hundred elephants. From the forehead of Pamela came a gentle smoke, and her skin was reddened like amber, yet she was oblivious to all of it, feeling nothing, literally nothing other than giggles.

“Do not assault me like so, momma.” She came back and hugged her beautiful Madre. “You know how tender and sensible I am.”

Suzana turned around and fully embraced her child. Both women snuggled tenderly as the snow began to fall more densely around them. Their big, powerful bodies burned always at superhuman levels. A shield of heat seemed to have been created around their conjoined beings, and for many dozens of feet the snow didn’t fall there, but only evaporated once crossing this threshold.

Pamela shivered upon smelling Suzana’s divine scent. She took an even bolder approach and rubbed her nose, her whole face on the Madre’s thick, hard, muscular neck, savoring the pump of her throbbing veins on her own lips and taking in all the wild, primordial musk or sex and savagery that the woman exuded so naturally as perfume.

Suzana’s hands, for their part, touched and groped Pamela on her shoulders. Both women were both fully clothed and only thinly dressed: Maidens, young and old, new and experienced, used only variations of togas, robes, and fine cloth free and loose on their bodies. It was taboo for any Maiden to wear clothing that was “closed”. Sewing of any kind was seen as corruption; a distasteful intrusion of norms and rules that were proper, truly, only for the weak. In many instances, clothing itself was frowned upon, and it was expected that the sisters and mothers communed in a state of perfect nakedness, their bodies being more beautiful than any piece of clothing, even one sewn by the gods themselves, could ever match.

If they didn’t so, well, at least not so liberally as they wanted, it’s because the differences between Maidens are always so extreme, and always so unruly. Unpredictable. In one room, one could have a gathering of 20-level novices with a 5,000-level Maiden doing chores, and then a 100,000-plus Over Maiden walking by, minding her business. Such extreme differences in power were felt by the Maidens as keenly—and painfully—as their own presence would have been felt by normal humans. The mere being of a Maiden-in-Training near a human would be enough to give said human extreme arousal, headaches, nausea, or in greater cases heart attacks or strokes. In the case of a veteran Maiden, or worse yet, an Over-Maiden, said human wouldn’t just collapse under the weight of their own wonder; they would physically combust thanks to the Maiden’s always active, always scorching metabolism.

“Hmm.” Suzana lowered her face also to Pamela’s young neck, groping it harshly with her hands, sniffing her beautiful white skin with passion. “Young mare. Good muscles.”

“Oh. Oh.” Pamela shivered as she dared touch her master as well. “You are one to speak, stud.”

Both women were fully clothed, wrapped in those wonderful togas, which were what kept the peace amongst Maidens great and small. With all these wild differences in power, and being generally very bothersome to organize and schedule every little movement of every single maiden, the custom that soon arose between them was to use those simple, but lavishly-crafted togas, and therefore (hopefully) bring down the mightiest Maidens to some bearable standing next to their smaller, meeker sisters.

It was a custom that Maidenkind came to agree upon and eventually quite very much like, yes, but in many instances ... such as that one when mighty Suzana and youngling Pamela hugged and touched and cuddled with one another ... it was easy to curse those wraps and be tempted to just cast them aside along with all precaution and good sense.

Suzana groped her sister more intently, worshipping her as much as she was evaluating her. “You need to work out your shoulders, little one.”

Pamela responded with a sexy purr at the base of Suzana’s neck, sending shivers and raising the air on the woman’s back along her spine. “Why? Aren’t my shoulders big enough? Strong enough?” Another purr, longer and deeper this time. “Sexy enough?”

Then, Suzana grabbed her harshly by the back of her neck with one hand and the side of her waist with the other. “Oh!!” Pamela squealed as she was pushed back so aggressively, with Suzana moving her away while grabbing her so harshly to give a good look at her body.

“They are. You’re sexy throughout.”

“T-than ... oh, t-thank...!” Pamela panted, realizing that she couldn’t move. “Thank you, dear mother.” That firm grasp, those strong fingers grabbing and squeezing her skin...! She could feel like the Madre could rear up her muscles any time she wanted, like nothing, and the thought filled her sex with boundless arousal. The lips of her pussy swelled and a profuse wetness formed, enough to make many sexy, sloppy noises that could be heard from a great distance.

“But your shoulders are still undeveloped.” The mighty mistress, keeping her always frozen with one hand on her neck, groped harshly and deeply the length Pamela’s shoulders, which would have already put linebackers of yankee football games to absolute shame. “They can grow so much larger and so much wider.”

“Oh, dear Madre.” All the time now Pamela spoke with a stammer. If her speech here sounds clean, that’s only for the sake of brevity. “I am shy of having shoulder so massive and strong like many sisters. Unlike most Maidens, I don’t like looking so masculine, being so manly.”

“A Maiden can never be manly.”

“Oh!” As she was speaking, so quick and effortless, Suzana swung her sister around and locked an arm around her neck, forcing her chin up, pulling her whole head with her biceps. “Oh, mommy!” Pamela was trembling as Suzana locked her waist and belly with the other arm, touching and fumbling her torso firmly with that hand, then rubbing her face on Pamela’s neck, speaking as she smelled her and sniffed her.

“A Maiden is supreme womanhood. Womb and muscles all in one, as it was always meant to be.”

“Oh, mother ... oh ... oh, mommy!”

Pamela was in heaven as her master groped her and touched her, feeling her many, many muscles, all swollen and big and hard, even underneath the many layers of fine cloth they both wore. “The cruelty and injustice of the world of old is what made our sexes separated like so, in such a silly manner. Women, in their primordial state, were the supreme beings. They still are in many simpler (and blessed) creatures, with the males being merely devices for reproduction. The image of the mighty spider—the black widow—and the puny males she literally eats for lunch usually comes to mind doesn’t it.”

“Hmm-hmm. It does, mommy!”

“So ... like the black widow, and like so many glorious species who didn’t veer from their original path, us Maidens are the natural—and perfect—state of humankind. Make no mistake about it, sister: us Maidens are the true humans. The only real humans, with everybody else...”

“ ... being a defect in the machine, an error in our programming.”

“Very well.” Suzana’s hands explode muscle after muscle of Pamela’s tall, strong body. Still, the Madre avoided all of her sexual characteristics, leaving boobs and cunt and even ass untouched, for she knew they weren’t in the proper place for such, and that time, at least for her, was still of the essence. “Your so-called ‘manliness’ ... what do you mean by it? Wide shoulders and huge, swollen muscles?” Her own muscles flexed, stretching and swelling loudly, sexy sounds of sheer tightness rippling from her deadly body—an armor of meat stronger than titanium. “Rock-hard abs and towering height? Massive, fat swollen biceps riddled with veins, each vessel huge and thick and throbbing, like long snakes ‘round your body or horse cocks always ejaculating?”

“Oo-oooh!” Pamela shivered especially, and the moistness on her cunt grew to extreme levels as the Madre, testing both of their self-control, moved her hand down to her sister’s legs and near her inner thighs and gave the mightiest ... mightiest! ... squeeze! “Oh, m-mom!! T-t-too much ... that’s t-too...!”

“Hang on with me, sexy stuff.” Suzana kept on squeezing and groping those legs. «Oh, these legs!» Her thoughts were on fire. «These sweet ... fat ... muscular legs!» She groped and fondled them more kindly, taming her horniest instincts and setting her own brain back onto her discourse: “Each of these features which we erroneously (and rather damningly) attribute to men...” She took her hand out of Pamela’s legs and pointed its thumb to her smiling, cocky grimace. “To us they belong. By right and might. To us they always belonged, and we’re now just taking them back, reclaiming what was womanly from the dawn of time.”

“Oh, mother ... oh ... oh, mommy.”

Suzana went back to worshiping her mentee’s body, adoring the feel of those many, nay, those endless curves, that aggressive hardness on her fingertips. Her palm was a little moist. The profuse wetness of Pamela’s cunt, spreading like transparent butter all over her inner thighs, was enough to moisten her fingers with her mere groping of the sister’s crotch. “I am serious: do not speak unkindly of these features, as if they don’t belong to you. These are things we’re reclaiming for ourselves; things that disgusting men took from us—a robbery which has doomed the world.”

“I know, mother. I know.” Just as brutally as she had been grabbed, then... “Oh!” Quickly she was set loose. “Mom ... mommy-yy!”

“Calm down, sister. Relax.” Suzana warmed her with a mighty grin. “It is the duty of any Maiden to grow as big as she can. Every one of us, you damn well know, has a limit, and it’s our sacred obligation to reach this limit. Failing that, to get as close to it as possible. Some of us even manage to go beyond it, but that’s neither a requirement nor a tangible possibility for the eighty percent of our kind.” She raised a brow and smiled naughtily. “Eighty percent in which you belong.”

“How cruel, my mother.” Pamela purred and swung her body side to side, smiling adoringly. “How rude and how unkind.”

“How true, I’m afraid. Regardless, every woman must grow big. Big. Big!! Muscles fit on the female body better than on any male one, for the female frame was the one originally designed by the gods to carry all things strong and hard and mighty in Utera.” She patted her belly hard, almost beat it up with her palms a little over her crotch. “We carry in us the power to breed life into being! We are literal gods!” To this, Pamela became flustered, and her smile more dreamy, more divine. “And our godhood is reflected as well in power: the power to attack, the power to defend, the power to kill.” Then, catching Pamela completely off-guard, Suzana stretched one arm out of her robes. “The power, simply put ... of muscles!”

“Ooooh...!”

She flexed. Boom... The snow around then was pushed back even further. A shockwave emanated from the mighty arm, covering the entirety of that bridge they were standing on. The bridge was over twelve hundred feet long, and the wave spread out even further. The snow was pushed away in a perfect circle, and smaller shockwaves boomed throughout the mountains, with many windows of the palace clinging and singing as they shook from that casual flex.

Suzana’s muscles had ballooned into extreme objects of pure virility, and Pamela swooned. “God ... goddess ... my ... my god...!” She was panting, gasping, and like a fangirl she raised her hands onto her face and began to fan herself, hopping like a bunny. “Oh, my gaaaawd!!”

Suzana’s arm was big, strong, and bulky. Her biceps was huge like a basketball, and her triceps was the armor that blanketed it even more virility. Her forearm was more swollen than a bodybuilding champion’s full-blown arm—biceps and triceps and all muscles fully flexed and put together—and the veins which powered her muscles spread out, then receded time and time again, following the rhythms on her natural pump.

Suzana pulled her forearm up and swung her fist outward, striking a mighty cobra. “This pose, which men had claimed for their own, these heretics ... This is the quintessential feminine pose.” He pulled her forearm a little closer and pumped her muscles, spreading out huge veins throughout. Her biceps pumped, pumped, pumped, and her muscles roared. Walls of virility bulged and boomed along her arm, and the base of her forearm became incredibly thick. Even her fingers swelled and rumbled, with her wrist becoming more muscular and veiny than most men’s whole bodies. “This flaunt of muscular power...” She stretched out, then, her other arm! “Ugh!”

“Goddess...!!” Pamela was oozing as she saw her goddess strike a double Cobra pose, boom! Boom!, her majestic body swelling to bull-like proportions, her monstrous arms booming and covering with veins, pumps loudly drumming, shockwaves emanating from her and making the mountains hum, each muscle throbbing like a heart; each virile flex so natural, like a ballet dance on the body of that steel-carved goddess. “Goddess ... oh, my!” Pamela was panting like a bitch. Her tongue was now constantly out of her mouth, protruding and receding along with her breath, and oozing a long, unbroken stream of saliva onto the ground, where a puddle three feet wide had already been made. Another puddle, naturally, was rising as well and getting close to merging with it: the puddle of her sexual juices. The drooling from her southern lips, which at that point were inflated, aching red, and throbbing as well just like hearts, just like her matron’s mighty muscles. “You’re so ... so...!!” She had stars in her eyes when Suzana quickly unmade her pose.

“I know. And so are you, little sister: beautiful, powerful, hot.” Suzana stepped forth.

“Oh...!”

She took Pamela by her chin and lifted it up. The little girl’s breath steamed onto Suzana’s face, and that breath smelled like roses whilst Suzana’s had the scent of both a hungry lion and a lioness in heat.

Both their hearts beat in harmony. They all knew what was going to happen that night. “You’re muscular, and you must get more muscular.” Her tone became even sweeter, and her hand went to the top of Pamela’s scalp. “Understood, lover?”

“Oooh ... oh, Suzana...” Pamela panted and swooned, all red with Suzana’s cuddling. The mighty matron, who towered over her by at least six inches, had begun to pat her on the head, and in between many pats she added a gentle, loving cuddling, rubbing her palm on her scalp like an owner petting a dog, and then patting and petting intermittently, loving her in all ways only a mother could. “Oh, mommy ... I ... I...” Pamela was slowly out of herself as she raised her hands to try and grab Suzana’s wrist. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She saw her gorgeous sister beginning to shut her eyes and standing at the tip of her toes, puckering her lips while her eyes trembled beneath her half-shut lids, slowly getting lost in her ravenous desire for a kiss. And more. “But answer me first.”

“Oh, the tease!” Pamela did not pull back completely. At that point, she couldn’t: she was still on her toes, sometimes higher, sometimes lower, and her eyes were constantly falling, then springing back open again, like a puppy fighting the urge to sleep. “I understand.”

“Your shoulders are rather underdeveloped, and I want to see them bulging with muscles, and at least five inches wider. Are we understood?”

“Yes, mom.” Her hands grasped for Suzana’s thighs on their own. “We are understood.”

“I will take you to the gym tomorrow.” Suzana moved her other hand to Pamela’s neck, and the poor girl was now assaulted by love from both fronts: one hand patted and petted her on the head, the stroke her on the neck and chin. “Let’s work out together, shall we?”

“Oooooh...!!” It was too much! To much!! Pamela began to tap one foot furiously on the ground, then stomp it with her whole leg, like a rabbit. Suzana knew exactly what she was doing: with one hand, she scritched and scratched her beautiful sister’s neck, the underside of her chin, and with the other she rubbed tenderly her sister’s scalp. Then, to Pamela’s utter delight, the matron touched her on the cheeks, gave them little squeezes, then moved her hand to the side of her neck, which she rubbed so lovingly and deeply. “Oh, god ... kiss me...”

She was taken, once again, by surprise when her matron acquiesced. Cupping her lovingly with both hands under her cheeks, Suzana propped Pamela’s head a little higher, and their eyes met with wonder, Pamela’s eyes shivering like stars. “Pam ... you are so very beautiful.” Pamela swooned as Suzanna pulled her kindly for a kiss. The little sister’s body trembled, then surrendered. Her jaw was mollified and her chin fell, opening up her lips warmly, invitingly for Suzana’s tongue, which conquered her mouth with love and tenderness. Pamela slowly unfurled her own tongue into Suzana’s superior mouth, and in there she tasted the musk, the power, the raw energy of a Maiden at the peak of her abilities. Even Suzana’s saliva was much thicker, much richer in chemicals and healing hormones. “God ... oh, god...” As she kissed her, she sucked as much of that saliva towards her, gulping hard, feeling her eyes turn to ice. “Oh, goddess ... goddess...” Lonely tears fell from her eyes, and then Pamela surrendered completely, throwing her arms around her matron’s shoulder and humping her, literally wrapping her legs around the woman’s superior waist and humping it!