Part 4

She was naked; and horny. Lurching down the dusk-shrouded streets of Panama City, drifting away from the Interstate, she grappled with her own lust. Gazing at ther reflection in the sheen of a department store window, the shock, the awe impacted her again. Her hair was still the same auburn-red as ever, in a short, stylishly functional center-part; yet her unfeminine haircut wildly contrasted with the remainder of her visage.

It was the tits that would label her as marked by magic; surely no human woman could grow pendulous melons so enormous; swaying before her trim torso so far that only when her arms were extended at full-length could she find her elbows. The sweeping orbs of mammary clearly torpedoed her days of playing soccer, as she'd done before college; for the wide expanse of wobbling teat jiggled across her slender frame with all the unbalanced enthusiasm of a crazed mosh-pit. She was still herself; she still had that crescent-shaped birthmark on her shoulder, same as always, but her ridiculous, feminine curves would change her life forever. Her center of gravity had dramatically shifted; she dared not estimate her bra-size, she could only sink her petite fingers again and again into the sensitive cushions of feminized flesh that was never less than six inches in length, even when she lay prone.

"Oww!" She grunted; it would take time to get accustomed to her new ass and hips; her pelvis now wide enough to completely hide her backpack if it were held behind her shapely rump. Her naked flesh scraped painfully against a corner wall. And yet, the greatest surprise was that there was only surprise; she had none of the revulsion, anger, rage that she should have experienced; only surprise at her new, comedically sexual anatomy. She was shocked at the suddeness; yet rapidly her mind was adapting; accepting, coping with this new, erotic existence. Yes... there was Brad's Hotel...

Brad... her buddy since High School; he came with her on Spring Break to Florida; he'd take care of her... her pussy... her tits... UUUrrrrrmmmmm She growned sensuously, as she anticipated what Brad would do to her soft, curvy, nubile, naked body! The lurid intent that boiled in her blood would have been unthinkable; impossible a day ago, but she had changed now; there was no avoiding it. Yes, she could have found some clothing; yet her urge to posture her nude, ripened sexuality before males had overwhelmed all sense of propriety. So she ran; naked into the street, into the darkening twilight; amazed at the brashness of her exhibitionism, but she knew it was her destiny to submit to the urges of the male animal.

Quickly; far sooner than she had hoped; yet longer than she had patience for, he was there - and she had presented him with her ripe nudity. Brad was not exceptionally handsome, or intelligent; yet he was sufficient. He had just started working out, yet the slight musculature of his arms was not yet enough to grant him stud-status; but she found his unshaven, blond stubble endearing. Her behavior was unthinkable! Impossibly irrational! Yet she could not stop: she could only submit to her new urges.

"Bradley..." she gurgled... thrusting forward her sweeping, rosy-tipped bosom.

"Wh-ha? D-do I know y-" his surprise was interrupted by her coral lips, red and soft, pressing into his mouth. His mind was the enemy. If Bradley's mind was allowed to complete a thought; he might object, or question this strange, improbable situation; he might worry. She would not allow it.

"Who... mmph" But Bradley's question would never be completed; she stifled any further queries with her tongue, thrust into Bradley's mouth as she wrapped her arms, legs, and bosom around his torso.

"I know... mmph it's not... romantic... slurp but... your penis... I n-need... your cock... your cum... in meee... nnnnn..." she answered his unspoken questions. "P-please... d-don't resist... don't fight..." In moments, his pants were down; his half-finished Budlight spilling onto the carpet, as any hope of resistance was defeated by naked thighs, and pillowy boobs.

While Brad's bobbing, throbbing penis was not spectacular, The auburn-haired, busty slut that had accosted him in his motel room did not think of men as being 'attractive' or 'unattractive'... all was different now; As the man's penis probed into her naked slit, she began to think of Manhood itself as a limited luxury; something to be cherised and indulged in wherever it occured. One did not sneer at a pile of diamonds because there were not enough; each diamond was a valuable thing. So it was with men, and their cocks. She realized that she would be a slut now, a hopeless, cock-worshipping whore, for as long as she lived. But there was no horror, no outrage at what had become of her; just a mild surprise that rapidly melted into acceptance even as Bradley's rutting penis melted with pleasure in the moistening depths of the slippery sanctum of her ripe womanhood.

The most shocking revelation was the joy; even if she had known what would happen to her; even had she known she would be transformed in this way; she wouldn't have done anything differently...

It was highly irregular. Jackson found the little lost Fae girl wandering the streets close to the beachfront alone. Clearly, she was some sort of Fae, with her bright green hair, and eyes like emerald marbles. but she was young and he didn't recognize her exact species. Hmm... probably some sort of forest nymph. The authorities were no help; the new, vast, federal adoption agencies that had sprung up in recent years were overburdened beyond all hope.

The weary-eyed, over-worked bureaucrat frantically typing, shuffling, and barking orders from behind the desk took one glance, and simply appointed Jackson as the girl's temporary guardian; until the registration cleared and the transfer files were in order; or something like that. But the handsome twenty-something couldn't blame the flustered federal paper-pusher. The explosive fertility of the Fae; and of those humans that came in contact with the Fae, had created a logistical nightmare trying to keep track of, and care for the hordes of half-fae offspring.

In the waiting room, in a seat across from him, a giggling, pregnant elf with green hair began fondling her own, milk-gorged boobs, muttering something about 'getting ready for number fifteen', in that sing-song, accented lilt common to creatures from Faerie. While in anatomy; these creatures seemed closely related to mankind, Jackson was reminded once again that the silly, slutty being across from him was not at all human. Female Fae seemed to have an irrational, sexual craving that seemed even stronger than the normal, baseline horniness of a human male; the whole timeless balance between the sexes, between the pursuer and seducer; the Game of Love, had been turned on its head. When Fae female and Human male met, both were hoping to score, and both were willing to make the first move. Often at the same time. But apparently with good reason; since human DNA apparently added something vital to Fae survival that they had lost through millenia of inbreeding; and this elf, (well into her third trimester) had clearly been getting all the human DNA she could handle. But If the females were such irrepressible whores, what must the few Fae males be like? They were very rare, and Jackson didn't remember ever meeting one.

The next woman stumbling into the Federal Auxillary Adoption Overflow clinic number 12 was human, and seemed as if she would soon be the proud mother of a baby elephant, so great was her burgeoning womb. She waddled with barely restrained rage to the desk, blowing a strand of strawberry-blond hair from her eyes as she launched into a snarling diatribe fueled by the churning vitriol of more pregnancy hormones than any woman should have to bear. Amidst a barrage of colorful expletives, Jackson heard something about 'that bastard Leprechaun... ' While the human unconsciously caressed her over-ripe dome of womanhood. Curiosity compelled Jackson to tilt his ear to listen as she berated the hapless bureaucrat. Explaining that, 'THIS wasn't one of my wishes, ' but the secretary was undaunted, telling her to begin the paperwork process with form delta-b-2.

As if sensing their mother's distress, her womb trembled visibly from God-knows how many supernatural infants kicking within the human's fertile belly as she struggled down to a seat; muttering something like, 'Nothing at the End of the Rainbow but Maternity clothes!" Her next comments were ribald enough to make a sailor blush, as her ripe nipples began to leak through her dress; her body well prepared for the impending brood she would squeeze out.

While slightly humorous, Jackson knew that the issue was a troublesome one, magic easily foiled most birth control, and many doctors were afraid to use conventional abortions in cases of magic, due to complications, and the fact that many spells could not be altered until they played out successfully.

So here he was; the little girl (who said her name was 'Dydra') was assigned to his custody for the next two days; due to bureaucratic backlog and incompetence. Though obviously of Faerie origin, she seemed a docile, well-behaved child; though Jackson dared not ask where she'd gotten the over-sized, Man's button-down shirt she'd been wearing. Plus, she didn't seem to speak much English. Probably abandoned by a human woman magically impregnated with more children than she could handle.

Well, Jackson's apartment was big enough, and he hoped she wouldn't get into trouble as he went out for groceries. (and clothes) Strange though, the little girl seemed utterly enamoured with sunlight itself, almost regretting being taken indoors; and... and... must be his imagination... had she grown a few inches during the ride back to his place? Naw...

She was her own mermaid; not subject to anyone's legendary, or mythological stereotype. That more than anything, Violet believed, her friend Marina was trying to prove. She had begun her routine swimming languidly in a clear tank she'd been able to arrange the construction of, and the first part of her act consisted of flowing, gliding, her glistening arms of pearlescent white beckonging towards the audience seductively, as if she was attempting to lure the onlookers into her tank.

But that was simply how Fae acted during any performance; the slutty, otherwordly females loved theatrics, they loved bold exhibitionism that let them display their irresponsible licentiousness to the world. Fairy creatures on stage, as Marina was, would hold in their minds the desire to seduce the audience into joining them there for some horrible, public orgy. Far too often, they succeeded. "oooo- Jamaica...

Bahama...

Come on, Pretty Mama..." With the Pre-Conjunction 'Beach Boys' playing as her theme music, a surprisingly cozy atmosphere was created in the vast auditorium of the Bosom Builder's Competition. As Marina swam, she would rotate herself periodically, and with each twist, her breasts became incrementally larger. The buoyant, glistening globes of fantastic fertility had begun at a size scarcely larger than a pair of overripe apples, when the curtain had been drawn, and Marina had revealed herself to the audience. After each twist, Her magical mammaries had swelled at least two inches outwards, the floral-patterned bikini and matching sarong wrap-around covering her shapely hips; which stretched to match. She timed her breast-expansion perfectly, coinciding with those times she was not facing the audience. "Key-Largo...

Montego...

Baaa-aaby why don't we go..." As Violet watched off stage, she smirked as the bouncers had to drag off two, middle-aged men in the audience, utterly seduced by the sultry mermaid. She decided against any stupid puns about bobbing for apples, since by now the fairy-creature's bosom had far transcended most fruits. The boobs, shimmering in the distortion of the water, now had reached so impressive a size that they seemed independent of the mermaid's torso. Each massive teat swung lazily, straining the floral-pattern bikini to the limit, while flowing in a buoyant arc through the water, the inertia of the mermaid's swim/dance pulled and tugging her vast tits in myriad directions as she arched her back. "We'll get there fast,

And then we'll take it slow..." But Violet knew the Mermaid; she was well aware of the lusty fairie's love of Rap music, thus she was perhaps the only one whose heart did not skip a beat at Marina's next move. It was a spectacular leap, with several rapid circuits, she built momentum in the tank, and launched herself like a flying fish, activating her terrestrial spell at the same time. Quicker than a breast jiggle, her tail had transformed; she had also been practicing the innate magic that mermaids used to grow feminine legs for use on land. Not only that, her moist legs tensed instantly, as she hit the ground, with barely a twitch. In under a second, the bikini and sarong were gone, the bikini ruptured; revealing a yet-smaller bikini; with no more material than necessary to cover her coaster-sized aureoles. The sarong was ripped aside; revealing a pair of skimpy, golden hot-pants, with the word 'SLUT' in pink glitter right across her shapely ass. With a resounding downbeat, the music changed; in lyrics and beat...

"Mah milkshake brings all the Boyz to the yard

and they're like,

it's better than yours..."

Violet didn't recognize the Pre-conjuction song, but the throbbing beat was as much an endorsement of lust as Marina's grinding hips. The slippery, pearly-skinned mermaid had proven herself mistress of land and water; able to entice desire in either medium. More impressive was the fact that Marina could continue the dance even as her boobs achieved a size somewhere between that of a fully-stuffed backpack, and a standard beachball.

"Damn right,

it's better than yours..."

Meeting the mermaid's gaze briefly, Violet felt a twinge of trepidation. While pure breast control was integral to a Bosom-Building competition, the Dance, and the poised style of the contestant were just as influential. Violet, being human, didn't really want to seduce the entire audience. The Bosom magic tended to multiply the female libido, but through pure discipline, Violet had managed to retain her sanity. Most human females did not seek to entice every male in the audience to storm the stage. Marina's eyes widened as she swept a hungry glare at the audience; most girls sought to maintain a constantly pleasant, cheery expression. But the mermaid's composure faltered, as she began to gain perspective on the number of males watching; at least two thousand. Fairy instincts flared powerfully, and Violet suspected that her voluptuous friend was drooling as much as any of the men.

"I could teach you,

But I'd have ta charge..."

Fae seemed to have an exhibitionist gene, the attention of a group of fertile males threw them into a frivolous, sexual hysteria; a crowd as large as this easily enough to banish all thoughts except the primal yearning to posture her naked pussy for impregnation by any single male, or a group of men. Whenever possible, Fae preferred gang-bangs; since a wide selection of sperm virtually ensured fertilization.

Her grinding hips and bobbing torso had already achieved the desired effect from the hooting, hollering, male component of the audience. The challenge now was whether Marina could merely continue dancing, or whether her Fae instinct would cause her to abandon the performance, leaping into a crowd of males to spread her legs and release her mating musk; trusting in an aroused male to spurt his seed into her at the least. And craving a full-blown gang-bang at best. But unfortunetely, Bosom-Building was not intended to be triple X rated; so Fae had been disqualified for similar behaviour in past years. Violet feared that they might need Bouncers on stage; not only to keep horny men from groping the dancers, but to protect the audience from lusty Fae!

"Nah-nah... nah-na-na...

The Boyz are waiting..."

The song had a throbbing, techno-rhythm, and the mermaid's burgeoning bosoms rolled and leapt upon her chest in perfect time with the downbeat. She was the dance, her grinding hips, and snarls of lust bespoke of the deepest intensity. Would the judges take away points for style, since the mermaid had so obviously given herself to her own Fae lust, her passion for every male in the audience etched plainly upon her face? Or would they award points for discipline, if she managed to remain on the stage, and not do a stage-dive naked into the audience, breasts out of control while gagging the auditorium with mating musk? Pixies and Mermaids were known for their especially predatory sex-drives, compared with other Fae. The judges would surely take that into account.

That was the balance; Humans needed to muster up the necessary seductiveness to make an impression, while Fae had to grapple with their instincts and resist the urge to abandon all technique; simply offering herself to the men in the audience as a breeding bitch.

The Judges marked down their scores and opinions, obscured in the shadow with the spotlights focused on stage. While the shadowy breast-experts appeared to be subdued, middle-aged analysts; it was plain that many of the female judges had preposterous breasts, from the watermelon-sized lumps in their sweaters. They were all women that had grappled with the fertility magic of Fairy, and had retained their sanity, dignity, and humanity. They knew what Violet was going through; they'd felt the soul-numbing yearning to bare your breasts and spread your legs for any man with a hard cock, and survived. All the humans and all the fae understood that they too, had to master the magic; leash their libido.

A woman in this magic-rich, modern world needed to be able to hold within her a frenzied estrus more powerful even than the urge to breathe, she had to use these yearnings, allow them to empower her, use the magic to become a hyper-voluptuous sex-pot, yet always constrain the lusts within the envelope of human dignity.

Violet's brow furrowed; would her control slip when the time came? She needed the sex-magic to control her tits; she needed the magic for the Shirt-buster, Sleight-of-boob, and Dairyland competitions, but could she maintain her sanity? Would she be carried away by security after surrenduring to the magic, and trying to rape the audience? Her double-KK's jiggled a bit in anticipation; always worse than the actual performance. Briefly, Violet wished that she possessed the special, vaginal glands that fae females did, to unleash their psychotropic sexual attractant, for when the male sex-drive needed a boost. If the atheltic human was going to loose herself in the lust, she hoped at least that she could get the men in the audience equally excited; nothing was worse than those times when a girl went 'Nympho', (to use the vernacular) and the men to whom she presented her naked sex tried to act like gentlemen! At least... that was what Fae thought... er... NO! She was human! She should be ashamed at the thought of being used as a breeding bitch! Shouldn't she? Violet shook her head, to clear it. It must be the magic worming its way into her mind, to make her every bit the slut that Marina was.

Uh oh... Jackson had meant well, but it had been a mistake to leave the little green-haired Fae girl alone in his apartment. There was the rush of water as he climbed the stairs and... yikes! She'd left the kitchen faucet on! Probably for hours! water trickled from his sink onto the linoleum, forming a slippery hazard for the unwary. Glasses, cups, and various drinking containers lay strewn about the living area, and every single window, shade, and shutter was open to the world.

And then there were the moans. No... more like growls... coming from his locked bedroom! That voice... feminine but deeper... deeper than any child's voice.

"RAAAAHHH!" it was half-roar, half-grunt.

"YAAAAAH!" Was it... pleasure? As he approached the door to his bedroom, there was an low, steady beat, accompanied by a higher, instrumental whine... music of some sort... drumbeat... and a saxophone... and... oh dear... down by the door, discarded lay a DVD box, it was gulp one of his 'Adult' videos!

"BUSTY BOSOM BLOW-OUT"

STARRING:

TATIANNA TITS

While normally distrustful of the Fae, the reknowned Elven Porn-Star had feminine assets to sway even the most virulent Faeophobe, much less Jackson himself. Poor little Dydra might be scarred for life if she was able to figure out how to run a DVD player! With tentative, tremulous fingers, Jackson had no choice but to open the door. The glaring sunlight from his wide-open window glistened in the spikes of his blond crew-cut, as the light bathed his stocky, yet fit frame.

There were dozens of ideas, fears, theories, that flitted like winged madness through Jackson's mind as he stared intently at his bed, and what was on it. It situations like this, when you're confronted by the impossible, the illogical, the first thing is to think back on the day and try to remember if anyone had cast a spell on you; however minor. But Jackson couldn't think of when anyone might have ensorcelled him today. Yet, how else to explain the impossible sight that greeted him?

After eight hours of shopping, Jackson had returned to find not a little Fae girl around 7-8 years in age, but a sleek, sensuous sex-pot on the chronological cusp between her prime of beauty and her prime of fertility. Even sprawled in delicious nudity upon his rumpled covers, he could see that her size and shape were perfect; tall enough to convey the impression of hearty vitality, yet still short enough that a man could feel powerful when holding her to his body.

"Wh-what... what did you do with... with Dydra..." Jackson stammered, his stocky musculature tensed in as much anxiety as lust. The sleek woman upon his bed might not have heard him; so engrossed as she was. This... woman, clearly did know, (or figured out) how to operate his DVD and was wailing with ecstatic passion at the lurid images splayed across the Television. The busty elf Tatianna was getting it doggy-style, and it was plain to the audience that, unlike 20th century porn-starlets, she wasn't faking anything.

The forest-haired hussy clutched yet more DVD cases to her shapely body; grasping them as if the pornographic videos were pictures of her long-lost children. She grunted, masturbating her nude cunt with the T.V. remote, rivulets of fragrant girl-cum dribbling from the engorged lips of her randy womanhood.

Cases bearing titles like, 'Fae Gone Wild', and 'Clito-clysm' were grasped with delicate; white-knuckled fingers. But Jackson didn't have that many titles like this. Just a few. Not too many. Having just a few of them made you 'Open-Minded'. But not too many. Not too many.

And yet, that body the cases were pressed to could not long escape his notice. Her skin was a subtle shade of silken gold of such sublime perfection, that her flesh itself seemed like a hypnotic pattern. No trace of a mole, scratch, scar, or blemish. Like many Fae, the seemingly air-brushed perfection of her skin appeared almost contrived. More amazing yet were her boobs; in a way that Jackson never expected.

Why... these were the smallest tits he'd ever seen on a Fae! Her mammaries were perfect, half-sphere hand-fulls, yet in size they were more like apples than the wobbling melons of titflesh common to the otherworldly females, perhaps a little under what should be a D-cup in a bra; if Fae ever wore bras. Jackson realized that he'd never seen a Fae wear a bra; and Man, was it easy to tell! Yet... this being's bosoms were well within the range for a human! Such a shock after growing accustomed to the giggly, undisciplined, supernatural sluts with absurd udders of jiggly boob that should result in crippling back problems if the creatures were human.

But who... how did she get in? And where was little Dydra?

"Wh-who... you're not... you can't be..."

"Dydra." she answered.

It should be impossible, and yet... that face... that elegant face that seemed almost half-asian, half-caucasian, and something otherworldly was... no! was it... ?... the face was familiar! Though larger, he could recognize some of the child's features in this obviously adult female. Could... could the little Fae girl have blossomed into a fully-functional adult over just these few hours?

There was the Man's shirt that he'd found her in; discarded on the bed-post. Amazing; but then some women that had been magically impregnated could finish their pregnancies in mere hours; some magical offspring maturing at impossible speeds inside a human womb. Could they grow so fast after already being born?

His speculation ceased when the creature turned those glistening, emerald eyes to him; to really see him. A curious expression, almost predatory crossed her preternatural features, as she looked to him; and to the elf Tatianna getting happily gang-banged by a football team on screen. And to him again. Her eyes then focused upon the front of Jackson's pants-and the noticeable bulge. Her expression focused; as if she were trying to solve a math problem.

On screen, Tatianna squeeled in glee as a beefy, black line-backer began unlacing his tights. The ecstatic elf grasped the garments; the fabric seeming to melt away before her magical, lusty touch. The silvery-haired faerie, commonly reknowned as the Goddess of Porn, eagerly enveloped the human's mighty meat between her moist, kissable lips. The creature claiming to be Dydra saw this, and then looked at Jackson's pants, and the realization hit her.

Almond-shaped, emerald eyes widened in surprise, as if she'd just found the Holy Grail. Jackson could almost see the lightbulb in her mind light up; as she made the connection between the man before her, and the penises on screen. Heh! She was young.

"COCK!" she shouted, almost accusingly. A delicate finger pointing straight to Jackson's crotch.

"Heh! You solved the mystery! But um..."

"COCK!!" she thumped a delicate hand upon the bed, eyes wide with wondrous excitement; voice raised in what was clearly a demand.

Her next action was simple, yet Jackson could feel the pull of mighty magics. With a sultry snarl, she tossed her green hair, thrust forth her bosom, and fixed him with a 'come-hither' look. Yet she also seemed to change shape, to change appearance in a way that defied reality. Her face and form, already sensuously voluptuous suddenly had become the most perfect, most erotic visage Jackson could have ever imagined! Her body took on a supernatural grace and refinement so sublime that his brain burned to look at her. He knew instinctively that nothing in the world could seem more seductive or beautiful than Dydra did right now; as his shuddering body took halting steps forward.

He tried to speak, he tried to say something, anything; but his body was slipping away from him. Whatever glamour magic the faerie creature possessed, Jackson found he could no more control himself in her presence than he could will his heart to stop beating. Indeed, he could feel his heart accelerating; blood pounding in his ears, as his breath became rapid. His cock shot forth almost as if saluting the glorious beauty before it. He could literally feel his self-control slipping away, and Jackson was trapped within his own mind, within his own desire. Every thought he could muster involved nothing but the smoothness of her silken skin; the spherical delight of her rounded boobs; pink aureoles darkening to rich brown as though her womanly flesh was preparing itself for something. The flickering shimmer of eyes radiant as an emerald meadow, boring into him from a face that seized his mind and compelled him to experience more beauty; more lust than any human had a right to.

Was there a reason not to tackle her, a reason not to caress her body with hands, lips, and penis? Was there anything in the world of value besides her breasts, and slender curves of her ripely voluptuous frame? Dimly, Jackson remembered that there was more to life than screwing this faerie creature; there was more to the universe than this impossibly feminine body before him; yet nothing else seemed to matter at this point; The broad-shouldered, crew-cut stud could scarcely imagine any reason why he would not press his naked body to her own lush nudity, and then enter her cauldron of dripping delight with his masculine lance. Even Tatianna on screen, her unearthly mammaries sandwiching a beefy, black cock that was ejaculating upon her ecstatically giggling, inhumanly elegant face, seemed to hold no appeal.

"COCK!!"

He did not need to be told again of the desires of the otherworldy entity of sensual sorcery sprawled deliciously before him. Lurching forward, his thick muscles tensed when first he laid the palm of his hand upon the ripe buttocks posturing before him. In her matured form, touching the creature was like laying hold of a live power cable. But it was pleasure, not voltage that seared into him, burning his brain with currents of electrifying joy.