A Lily for Iris

by The Flaming Dodo

Copyright© 2016 by The Flaming Dodo

Fantasy Sex Story: After losing her lover to a violent mob, a witch must partake in a dark ritual to resurrect her partner. THIS STORY CONTAINS BIRTHING WHICH IS PRETTY OUT THERE FOR STORIESONLINE, METHINKS.It's also pretty messy. I can't stress that enough.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa   Consensual   Magic   Lesbian   Ghost   Incest   Sister   Oral Sex   Pregnancy   Water Sports   Transformation   .

Iris tightened her grip on the Pentdramon. The bulging shard of ruby pulsed in her palm with a warm red glow. Stabbing needles of panic throbbed in that arm as she continued to drag her tired legs through the muddy bog. A thick lump sat in her dry as her bare feet sank deeper— what if she dropped the precious jewel in the darkness that surrounded her? In the dense shadows of midnight, Iris was certain the tepid glow would be impossible to find in the murky water.

That would have been a horrendous blunder. It would have wasted everything— the entire arduous trek— her broken sandals— her bruised, dirty feet— her once long, flowing dress now tattered, soiled and worn. Most of all, she would have lost her precious flower. This would have been unbearable. The mere thought caused a tear to form on her weathered, bronze face.

She winced as jolts of pain shoot through her muscles. Trudging through the mud for so long worried the joint of her left knee— a riding injury she sustained only a day before her 30th birthday. Amidst the sharp ache in her tender nerve, Iris dragged her damaged leg behind her stride. She lunged forward, relying more on inertia she knew she should, until her good knee buckled. Her footing became unstable, and both legs crumbled fast. She cried with an unexpected “OOF!” as she splashed about, bracing herself with her free palm.

“My love,” Iris cried through her dirt and tear-stained lips. “I cannot move forward.” Now her frail arm threatened to cave under her weight. She craned her head up. Through the strands of her coarse, kinky curls that dangled before her eyes, she could barely make out the blurred whiteness in the sky. A dense fog under a cloudy eclipse darkened her path. The tendons in her ankles and wrists creaked and popped and she tried to push forward— Iris knew if she became submerged in the thicket, she wouldn’t have the strength to resist drowning. The dirty water splashed against her body as she trembled.

Now every so often a break in looming clouds allowed the moon’s rays to slash through the darkness like divinity. The light shimmered on the water’s surface, illuminating a short path a hundred yards in the distance. Iris focused her tired eyes on the phantom path before it faded. Then the moon returned to the shroud. Iris shut her eyes with fast desperation as her tears dripped in a modest stream to the water below. “It’s hopeless.” She cried, voice cracking with desperation. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

She considered letting her arm fall— her body carried off by the gentle waves. Perhaps she would fall fast asleep. Iris opened her eyes— and her heart leapt at the sight! The path remained illuminated, even though the moon was shrouded. A sprinkling of white lilies floated in the water straight ahead. They sat upon the darkness, emitting their own light it seemed. The flowers were arcane, no doubt about that— and a delightful sign she was on the right path.

Iris staggered to her feet under renewed strength. She lifted each leg in front of the other, splashing past the glowing petals. Then water suddenly met land. She smiled a toothy grin once the ground under her feet became drier. The grass was a welcomed feeling under her toes. “I—I DID IT!” Iris collapsed under the weight of her fatigue. She pawed at the soft earth until she made a fist-sized hole. She whispered a short incantation as she dug the Pentdramon deeper into the ground, covering the jewel with dirt. “Arise, my love.” She said in the old, illicit language. “Arise, Lily of Waedyn” Iris waited until the muddy soil consumed the ruby before she closed her eyes. It’s where she rested for an hour.

When Iris awoke, she nodded to the bulging large lily that sprouted from the Pentdramon. Truly, this was the most magical area of the swamp— and secluded at that. It was the perfect place for a resurrection. Her sacrifice was worth it. The days of blistering and harrowing travel. Iris could let go of the scarring memory of the angry mob— and the grisly manner of how her love was killed. Iris recalled the final moments before the execution. The couple had taken a room in a nearby town of Burth and settled in for the night. Lily had only just climbed between Iris’ curvy loins when the fiendish mob burrowed through the flimsy door. Lily was ripped from her grasp just as quickly. There would be no reasoning with them. Rumors of witchcraft coupled with the unnatural act in which they were about to engage meant there was no need for a trial.

It became a bloody room of death. Iris was fortunate enough to escape with the Pentdramon, scraping her limbs on the glass shards on the way through the room’s only window. Down the alleyway and into the wooded glen, the villagers soon lost her trail despite the fresh splattering of blood she left...

“It’s over, now.” She shuddered. Shoving the memory aside. She traced her fingers along the lily’s petals. The brutal conclusion of her lover was of no consequence— not anymore. Dazzling blue balls of lights rose from the flower and hovered above Iris. The light formed slow at first, then the entire bank glowed under the mysterious gleam. The eerie hue grew by an exponential rate. Iris shielded her eyes as the flash and flicker formed arms and legs. Then its torso motioned forward Iris’ frail figure. The exhausted woman choked on her tears. “M—my love...” Her emotional words stumbled over each other. She hiked up the frayed, muddy ends of her dress around her dirty thighs. “You must take me now.”

The humidity of the Waedyn swamp clung to her feminine mound. Iris blushed from embarrassment. She knew her most private area reeked of sweat-soaked odor. Wishing she had time to rinse, Iris tried to push those thoughts aside. Time was still of the essence.

The shimmering light knew this, and its arms wrapped around Iris’ waist, lifting her out of the mud slightly. With a passionate rhythm, the dazzling hips thrusted against Iris’ spread legs. It bucked and pumped against Iris, who yelped shouts of pleasure as the light tingled inside her.

“Nggghh!” Iris bit her bottom lip to stifle her desire to howl out her delight. She let her limbs dangle under her body as the light cradled her. Her thighs trembled as the glowing blue focused between her legs. Iris’ mouth hung agape and her eyes slowly rolled back. The light crept deeper in her stiffening body. “Yes...” She said through a gurgling sound in her throat.

Iris felt her juices— her lustful excitement trickle down her dusky ass. Her abs tightened to brace her muscles as the light disappeared inside her.

“OOOF!” Iris’ body crashed back to the ground with an audible slap. She winced, but otherwise motionless. Her body ached for hours before this point, and the pain reached an overdue threshold. What’s worse, her toe-curling climax had did little the quell the pain. She blinked her eyes a few times while she caught her breath. The swamp was unusually silent. That wouldn’t last.

Iris arched her back as the skin around her stomach swelled. “Ooo!” She pursed her lips and caressed her growing belly. “You’re coming so quickly, my love.” Iris whispered as she squirmed in the mud, grinding her bare ass into the loose, moist earth with delight. As Iris writhed, the Pentdramon Resurrection, the most unholy rebirth, continued. “Oh my!” Iris hissed, almost laughing. She pawed at her drooling pussy. “I can feel you forming inside me—GROWING!” She squeezed clumps of dirt between her fingers and mashed it against her clit. Two fingers rubbed the length of her slit, then slowly sank inside.

“Oh, Lily.” Her dead lover’s named dripped from her lips as her voice trembled. With one hand she trailed dried mud over her bare, swollen belly. The other still worked deep within her womanhood. First two fingers, then three, until her knuckled stretched her pussy’s limits.

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