Misty Nuebaum and the Trailer Park Incident

Misty sat on the stoop of her mobile, smoking a cigarette. It was late, the sky above her dark and full of stars. The moon shone brightly down on her, doing far more to illuminate the trailer park around her then the few sparse street lights that flickered on and off.

She had the rundown home all to herself for the weekend as her mom had taken off with her newest boyfriend for “the weekend”, although she knew it was likely that she wouldn’t be back for weeks. Her mother had been leaving her alone since she was little and she knew how to fend for herself.

Normally her mother tended to leave the fridge well stocked when she disappeared, her sad attempt to be a good parent. Of course, now that Misty had graduated high school and was legally an adult her mother wasn’t trying to be a good parent quiet as often. Twenty-Four hours into her mother’s most recent disappearance and the fridge was already mostly empty.

“Bitch didn’t even leave any beer,” she mumbled between drags of her cigarette. She wasn’t too worried. She knew that she was young and relatively attractive enough to find some guy somewhere that would be willing to share a meal or two with her if she gave him some intimate company. This weekend wouldn’t be the first time she put out for a hot meal, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. If anything she had come to enjoy recklessly using her body to get things. So far her birth control had kept her from getting pregnant and she had lucked out and remained STD free.

With a flick of her finger she sent her cigarette butt flying into the dirt road in front of her. She got to her feet and stretched, raising her arms up and arching her back as she yawned loudly. Her zipped up hoodie squeezed her breasts painfully as she stretched, causing her to make a disgruntled noise as she straightened her body out.

The tight black hoodie had been too small for years, but it was her favorite article of clothing and she wore it like it was armor, a constant in her turbulent life that she was convinced would keep her safe. Her breasts had filled out late, not really starting to grow till she was a senior. But once they had started they had kept growing.

For the first few months her mother had given her money to buy new bras, but after she grew through three cup sizes her mother had given up. “I’m not giving you another dollar to buy bras till your tits stop growing!” she had yelled. Misty had shrugged and had been going through life without a bra since then.

Personally she didn’t care. She’d never been fond of how restricting bra’s felt. Sure, the teachers at school had complained at first, but she learned if she just wore a few extra layers of shirts a couple sizes too small they would keep her breasts in check, the tight fabric binding her breasts in place. In fact, she normally wore enough tight shirts that most of her friends had no idea how big her breasts really were. She’d learned to only really let their true size be known when she needed them, till then she kept them compressed and hidden under layers of clothing as if they were her secret sexual weapon.

For a few minutes she stood in front of her home. She thought about going back inside, but there was nothing to do inside. Their television was broken and her mother hadn’t paid for their internet connection in months. The phone company had finally disconnected it. They had never been rich, but until recently they had had a relatively comfortable life. But around her eighteenth birthday her mom’s money had seemed to all dry up.

Misty was convinced the woman was making things hard on purpose. Her employment hadn’t changed. She didn’t have any less money coming into their home. Obviously her mother wanted to be rid of Misty, wanted to kick her out but felt too guilty to do that. So instead she was making living at home with her as shitty as possible in the hopes she would leave. At this point Misty was remaining with her mother more out of spite than anything else.

Normally she’d be able to distract herself by spending time with her friends. But now that school was over they were all moving out of the trailer park. Taking jobs and getting places of their own, or joining the military or going off to college. Of the few friends she had left all were busy this weekend, so she was left bored and alone.

What she REALLY wanted, more than anything, was a nice warm alcoholic buzz. She cursed her mother under her breath again for leaving the house empty of any and all booze. Even the hard liquor was all gone. Her mother used to keep that well stocked, being the useless drink she was, but as money had gotten tighter she had stopped replacing bottles as they got emptied.

Misty took one last look at her lonely trailer, then turned and walked away from it. Whenever she felt aimless or bored she would take off like this. First walking through the trailer park, lost in thought and hoping to run into someone she knew. If she didn’t run into anyone her feet would take her out into the nearby neighborhoods. Sometimes she’d walk all night, not returning home till the sun was starting to rise.

She’d started to love these solitary walks as they filled more and more of her time. She would think, but as the night dragged on she would start to just listen to the city around her. She’d concentrate on the sound of distant cars, a sound that never stopped although it was far quieter at this late hour. But more than the sounds she loved the smells, especially on warm summer days like this. Not so hot that she would have to take some of her layers off, but warm enough to ensure she stank with body odor and sweat when she returned home. It was a human smell, one she enjoyed and that she loved mixing with the smell of her cigarettes.

Turning a corner she saw that there was another person walking through the trailer park, just like her. The street before her was lit only by the moon and the occasional porch light, ensuring that the distant figure was mostly shrouded in dark shadows. But by the way the figure walked she assumed it was a man. He was hunched over, hiding his face in the hood of a black hoodie of his own.

Misty stared at the man as they drew ever nearer. She pulled another cigarette out and lit it, moving to the same side of the street as the man. As he drew nearer she could see that he looked young, maybe only a few years older than her. She wondered if he was someone she knew, maybe out for a walk simply to fill time just like her.

The man finally looked up, taking note of the woman approaching him. He was close enough now that Misty should have been able to see his face, but his features remained stubbornly in shadow. Her curiosity was peeked. There was something enticing about the man before her, a kind of indescribable, unknowable essence radiating off of him.

She raised her hand in greeting as they drew to within speaking distance. She walked a little slower. “Sup,” she said, trying to sound disinterested but friendly.

The man stopped. She could see that he was looking her over. “Do I know you?” He asked. His voice was strange. Misty thought that it sounded firm and confident, yet soft and hesitant. And there was an odd almost melodic tone to it, something she had never heard before. It filled her with a giddy, light headed feeling.

“Don’t think so,” she said, taking a drag form her cigarette. “Just trying to be friendly. I’m Misty,” she said, flashing a smile at him. She kept her mouth closed as she did, immediately looking down at the ground suddenly self conscious about the fact that she had no makeup on and that her shoulder length black hair was messy and greasy looking.

The man pulled his hood back, allowing it to fall to his shoulders. Misty looked up, eager to get her first good look of the man. She was right, he only looked a few years older than her. He was attractive, but in a very forgettable way. He was just an attractive, young, clean shaven white guy. He wore a stern expression on his face, as if he were trying to decide whether to keep talking to Misty. But there was more to the look, something almost predatory. She thought she recognized it: it was the look of a man deciding whether he wanted a woman.

Her heart started racing. She was confused by how much she wanted the man to respond to her, to want her. As plain as his features seemed to be she found him incredibly attractive in some unplaceable way.

Finally, his stern expression broke and he smiled back at her. “It’s good to meet you, young Misty.” He looked around, confused for a moment, then looked back at Misty. “You know, I’m just realizing that I don’t actually know where I am. I guess I got lost in thought and just kept walking…”

“Oh my god,” Misty said, her face lighting up. “I do that like ALL the time.” She bent her head forward, letting her hair fall in front of her face. She raised her hand and pulled some of the hair back so she could peek up at him. “I could, you know, help you find your way. Or we could maybe walk and talk for a bit?”

Misty spoke the suggestion to walk with her with a bit of desperation. Partially she was just lonely and bored, but there was something more. The man had a warm charm about him, something that drew her like a moth to a flame. She felt the desire, no need, to keep talking to him. To remain in his presence.

“Do you live nearby?” he asked her.

“Yeah…” she said, her voice soft and distant as she stared into his eyes. She was transfixed by the way they seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. And as she shifted her stance their color shifted, changing with the angle she looked at him.

She realized she had zoned out. She shook her head and closed her eyes to clear her mind. He said something, she thought. What did he say?

“Oh, yeah!” She said, more confident and less distracted. “Yeah, I live not far away. Why don’t we head back to my place and talk and once we get there I can, you know, help you figure out where you are.” As they started to walk she gave him a sly, sideways look. She was already thinking about how nice it would be to invite him in. He’d certainly keep her entertained for the rest of the night and help her feel less alone. Hell, he might even agree to pay for a pizza if they ordered one.

For a few minutes they walked in silence. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m not much of a conversationalist. I’m used to being alone most of the time.”

“Me too,” Misty said. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was how she FELT most of the time. Her heart began racing again. She was starting to hope this man would be someone who would understand her, and not just be a one night fling to fill the boredom she felt from life. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We can just walk and… listen to the night. The only thing is…” her voice trailed off, as she lost the confidence to say what she wanted to.

“What?” he asked her. His voice rung in her head, making her feel light headed and giddy again. She felt, in that moment, that she could confess anything to this man.

“Well, I just wish we had something to drink, ya know? I mean, not enough to get drunk, just something to get a nice buzz. Like a beer or a flask or something.” She looked at him and hid behind her hair again. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “That probably sounds pathetic.”

“Are you even old enough to drink legally?” he asked her.

“No…” she muttered quietly, then perked up. “Are you?” she asked.

“I am. I’m a lot older than I look.” They walked together in silence for a minute, then he moved closer to her. He reached into the pocket of his worn jeans and pulled something out. He held an ornate, metal flask up to her. “Older than I look and not the least hesitant to break the laws of men or gods in the pursuit of physical pleasure.”

Misty gave him a quizzical look, slightly confused by how he chose to word his last statement. Then she snatched the flask out of his hand. As she unscrewed the top and hungrily took a large gulp the man laughed. “Go easy on that, it’s almost certainly stronger then you are used to.”

She turned to give him a defiant look as she swallowed the liquid in her mouth. Her expression immediately changed as the overpowering taste of high proof alcohol washed warmly down her throat. She looked shocked and opened her mouth with a gasp. “What is this!” she rasped, rubbing at her throat.

Still chuckling he said, “Something you should probably sip. Especially if all you want is a buzz. Try having some more, but just a taste this time. I swear it will be much better that way.”

With a sideways look of skepticism she lifted the flask to her mouth and took a small sip. “Don’t swallow it yet. Take time to savor it in your mouth,” he said to her. She did as he said and was surprised to find that in a smaller quality it tasted much less of alcohol. The taste was like nothing she had ever had before: strongly sweet, yet with a hint of medicinal bitterness that complimented the sweetness.

After letting the taste expand in her mouth for a moment she swallowed. Again, she found the taste much more enjoyable the second time. But as she swallowed she felt a dizzy rush hit her. Missy stumbled while walking forward, then righted herself. “Guess you’re right,” she said. “I’m already feeling a nice buzz.”

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close to him. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine in a little bit as long as you don’t drink any more. Here, give the flask back to me.” He took it back and returned it to his pocket. “I’ll support you till your head feels a little more clear.”

“Okay,” Misty said, slightly overwhelmed in the moment. Her head was swimming with a warm, disorienting and pleasant feeling. She knew it must be from the strange alcohol she had just drunk, but her body was telling her the feeling was coming from being so close to this strange man.

With her head still swimming Misty slowly walked the stranger back to her home. By the time she reached her front steps her head had cleared, but only slightly. As she reached for the door knob she suddenly felt aware of how inadequate her home was. Without looking back at him she spoke quietly. “It’s not much… but, it’s—”

“Home,” he said, finishing her sentence. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed firmly. “A home is never something to be ashamed of. It is where one is most comfortable, where one enjoys their private pleasures. It’s always a gift to be let into a person’s most intimate space. Will you let me into yours?”

As he spoke his words of reassurance his voice seemed to grow more lyrical, magically comforting to Misty’s ears. And distracting her from the strangeness of his words was the feel of his hand on her shoulder. Even though she had three shirts and a hoodie on she could feel heat radiating off his hand. Not just heat, but a primal, comforting warmth.

She blinked, trying to clear her head but suddenly feeling a lot more inebriated. “Yeah,” she said in a dreamy tone, “Yeah, come into my home…” After opening the door it was like she was on autopilot. She didn’t look back at the man or acknowledge that he was with her. She simply walked in and took her shoes off, then slowly stumbled down the narrow hallway to her bedroom. Once there she lay down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling above her and waiting for something. She didn’t know what yet, but she knew she had to wait for it.

The stranger followed her, looking about. His face was emotionless, showing no sign of what he thought of the small home’s Spartan furnishing or generally disheveled look. Misty’s room was by far the barest in the house. There was a large bed that filled the center of the room, but the wooden frame was battered and looked like it had been found on a curbside. The only other piece of furnishing was an equally dilapidated dresser, a few of its drawers hanging open with articles of clothing hanging out.

Littered across the threadbare and highly stained carpet were multiple dirty cups and a stack of grease covered paper plates atop a small stack of old pizza boxes. The dilapidated dresser was covered in piles of belongings, many of them jewelry or half used makeup containers. All in all there was little sign of Misty owning much of anything other than her wardrobe. There were no books, no diaries, nothing to entertain her while alone.

He finally turned his emotionless gaze to Misty and for a long time he stared at the woman lying on the bed. She was on her back, staring up at the ceiling as she breathed slowly. Her long black hair flowed out around her head like a dark halo, highlighting how pale her white skin was.

Even though her rough living had slightly aged her beyond her years she still had the exclusive beauty of extreme youth. She just lacked the innocence that normally came along with it. But the man was fine with that; he had always found innocence, and the inexperience that came alone with it, boring. It was the fact that she was both young and lacked innocence that had piqued his interest in the all too trusting young woman.

As he continued to stare she began to shift uncomfortably. At first it was just side to side, as if she were laying on an uncomfortably lump. But as time progressed she began adjusting her shirts. She unzipped her hoodie, sat up for a moment and discarded it then lay down. Almost immediately she began tugging and pulling at her shirts again.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice filling the silence that surrounded them. “You are going to feel some discomfort, but it will be okay. The discomfort will pass, and leave behind only pleasure. Tell me, are we alone?”

“Yes,” Misty said, her voice distant. She sat up and pulled one of her shirts off. She lay back down, then made a grunting sound of annoyance, sitting back up and pulling another shirt off.

With each layer she removed her breasts looked larger. The tight grip of the too small tops was being removed layer by layer and allowing her large breasts to show their true size. By the time she got down to the last shirt the stranger could see that her breasts were so large that the fabric was nearly being stretched apart. Then, with a slow ripping sound, the thin, tight fabric of her last shirt DID begin to rip open.

Still sitting up, Misty looked down at her chest and made a stunned sound of alarm. “My breasts, they’re growing!” Another sound of fabric slowly ripping echoed through the small room as the fabric of her shirt gave against the gradual increase of her breasts.

“Yes,” the man said. “The drink I gave you was actually a Fae potion. I like large breasts, in fact I need them, and yours looked… well, not big enough. But I seemed to have been mistaken; you had hidden their size quite well. I’m afraid the potion is going to make them unnaturally large for some time. But I don’t think I’ll mind.”

Misty groaned in pain as her breasts continued to grow, the fabric of her shirt painfully digging into her tender flesh. Where the shirt was torn open pale white flesh bulged through. She was staring down at her chest, watching it slowly expand. Watching as the rips continued to grow. “It hurts,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I imagine if you rip your shirt off that will ease some of the pain.”

Without looking up Misty did as he suggested, grabbing one of the tears in the front of her shirt and pulling it open. The stretched fabric gave easily, ripping apart and allowing her breasts to come spilling out. She exhaled a deep sigh of release as the feeling of pressure on her chest was eased. She struggled for a moment to get the rest of the tattered t-shirt off of herself, then simply laid back down on her bed.

The stranger still stood at the end of the bed, watching her breasts expand. Having used the potion plenty of times before he knew they must have grown a few coup sizes by now. That meant her breasts would have originally looked quite large for a woman as small and thin as the one laying before him.  At the moment they looked practically indecent, each round, soft, fleshy breast having grown to the size of the young woman’s head. He licked his lips, knowing the growth hadn’t even begun to slow.

Misty lay on her back, but shifted side to side slightly, causing her growing breasts to jiggle fluidly as she did. She arched her back slightly, a surprised moan escaping her thin lips. Now that her breasts were not constricted she was aware of the pleasurable warmth that was mixed with the sore painful feeling in them as they grew. That warmth was radiating out form her breasts and flowing through her body, and it felt like it was collecting in her privates. It reminded her of the warm fuzzy feeling she got when she used a vibrator on a high setting.

She continued to writhe about, feeling her breasts growing ever larger, but also feeling more and more aroused. She allowed one of her hands to wander to her waist and unbutton her jeans. A moment later her hand was jammed down the front of her pants, snaking into her panties and through her thick black pubic hair. She dipped her pointer finger into her slit, collecting some of the moisture that was flowing there, then dragged her finger up to her clit. With her fingertip well lubricated she began to finger herself.

Blinking, she looked away from the ceiling above her. She lifted her head slightly, looking at her chest. She gasped in shock. Her breasts were now huge, nearly double the size of head perhaps although it was hard to tell. Her pink areolas had been stretched out to nearly the size of the palm of her hand, if not bigger. The nub of her nipples, which were engorged and erect, were each as big as the end of her thumb.

As she stared at her breasts she continued to masturbate. This ensured that she kept wiggling slightly, causing her breasts to move back and forth from side to side in fluid motions. She could tell just by looking at her breasts that they would be soft and malleable to the touch. In fact, lying on her back as she was, they flowed fluidly down the sides of her torso, as much of their heft now resting on the bed below her as was resting on her chest. Instead of being the large, nearly perfectly round orbs they had been earlier that day they were like two huge fleshy, jiggling pancakes.

She noticed that they seemed to have stopped growing, the painful stretching feeling finally fading. But the radiating warmth still continued to flow from them. They felt slightly sore, and very tender. With slow caution she raised her free hand up and gently placed her hand down on one breast. As soon as skin contacted skin she knew how sensitive her flesh had become.

Acting on pure animal instinct she began to caress her breasts, the oversensitive flesh sending overpowering waves of pleasure flowing into her. She felt that pleasure echo in her breast, feeling as if it was growing larger and more potent. Then it flowed in a wave of pleasure out into her body, warming her face. It flowed down, hitting her privates like a tsunami. She moaned loudly, arching her back high into the air as she groped a handful of tit meat and began to cum.

The orgasm was confusingly strong, making her head spin and making her lose her place in the world, she even black out for what felt to be just a moment. When her mind began to clear she realized she was still lying on her back, but her arms were each stretched out beside her. She blinked again, a kind of nervous tic that helped her clear her mind. She realized her arms weren’t just stretched out beside her, but were tied that way.

She looked at her wrists. Yes, some kind of leather binding was tied around her wrist, tightly stretching to the edge of the bed. She looked around the room and saw a man standing at the end of her bed in the middle of tying one of her ankles to the bed as well. Filled with sudden panic she moved to kick him away, but found her other leg was already tightly bound in place. “Who?” she asked, then remembered: the stranger.

He looked up at her, a patient, waiting look on his face. “I invited you here,” she said aloud, as if just remembering it. “You gave me a drink… but it was a drug of some kind, made my breasts grow! What… what are you?”

The man nodded approvingly. “Yes, that is a much better question than who I am. Because who I am, as an individual, doesn’t matter. We are legion, young Misty, surrounding you humans at all times. You just don’t know it. And though there are different things that go bump in the night, those like me are rather interchangeable to humans like you.”

She narrowed her eyes as he finished tightening the binding around her ankle. She realized then that she had been stripped all the way naked. The ankle bindings were tied in a way that pulled her legs open, giving the man standing at the end of the bed full view of her most intimate of parts. She felt her face blush and she looked away from him. “What are you going to do to me now?”

“Ah,” he said, as if just realizing something. “Not what you think, not exactly. The bindings aren’t here to keep you from escaping. I have other ways of doing that, and I think once we start you wouldn’t want to anyways. No, the bindings are here to keep you from hurting yourself. It seems I, uh, allowed you to drink far too much of the Fae potion. If your breasts had been as small as I thought, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered, but as it is,” he said, holding as hands up in a sign of defeat.

“I don’t understand,” she said angrily, aware that to look at him she had to look between the two enormous flesh mountains that were now her breasts.

“Well, the potion doesn’t just make your breasts physically larger. See, humans give off a kind of… sexual energy. And creatures like me survive by feeding on that energy.”

“What, like some kind of sexual vampire?”

“Yes, exactly! And not long after we are made what we are, we each find that there is a specific kind of sexual energy that we crave, one that nourishes us more than any other kind. For me it is the energy that comes from a woman’s breasts. And to a certain extent that energy is dependent on the woman’s natural breast size. Increasing the breasts isn’t enough to make my sexual meal more pleasurable or filling, I need to magically increase the energy in those breasts. You understand?”

“No,” she said, turning away. She didn’t want to understand. None of this was right. She thought that maybe it was some kind of nightmare, but it all felt alarmingly real.

“Well, the potion didn’t just increase the physical size of your breasts. It increased their output of sexual energies. And since your breasts were naturally so large you are now putting out nearly more energies than your body and mind can handle.”

“I don’t feel anything,” she said quickly. But she knew, as soon as the words had left her mouth, that it was a lie. Her breasts DID feel different. And just the small breeze of the air flowing through the room across the far too sensitive skin of her breasts was warming her insides.

“It really doesn’t matter what you think right now,” he said. She looked at him and saw he was getting undressed. “In a moment I will begin to touch you and then all your worries will melt away. You’re going to feel pleasure that you couldn’t have even imagined was possible, and in the end it will break your mind for a time.

“But when you wake up tomorrow you will mostly have forgotten all of this. If you remember anything it will be as a dream, one that quickly fades from your memories. How else could ones such as I continue feeding on mortals nearly every night and remain undiscovered? And as far as your breasts go, well… you did drink more of it then you were supposed to, but it’s always worn off after about ten hours in the past I’m sure it will be fine this time.”

Misty was only vaguely listening to his words. As he had pulled his pants and underwear off he had revealed his manhood. In Misty’s short time being sexually active she had already been with a great many men, but none of them had had a sexual organ as thick and long as this man’s. Her eyes practically popped out of her head looking at it, and then did so again when she realized he hadn’t even started to get hard yet.

“That’s not going to fit in me!” She said, her voice alarmed, but with a hint of excitement in it.

The man grabbed his cock, stroking it slightly, then looked up at her. “Oh, this thing here? Yes, I know, rather larger than a mortal man’s. I assure you, as big as it is, I could enter you without doing harm. But I probably won’t be doing that. Like I said, it’s the energy in your breasts I need.”

Still stroking his cock he walked around the bed till he was standing next to her head. Smiling down at her, he climbed up onto the bed with her, holding his massive cock above her face. Looking up she could see that it had started to swell, filling with blood and engorging as it slowly grew longer, more rigid, and thicker. She turned her head away from it, saying, “No,” before closing her mouth tightly.

“Shhhhhh,” he said. “Calm yourself, there is nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was filled with the magical, singsong tone once again. She felt his voice wrap around the inside of her head, enveloping her mind and easing her fears. Those fears seemed to melt away, taking all of her worries with them. She felt herself grow calm; gradually realizing she didn’t need to fear this man. If anything, she wanted to please him.

Slowly she turned her bead back towards him. His cock came back into view, looming large over her. She realized then that it wasn’t intimidating, but instead arousing, to look at. She felt her slit grow moist and her mouth water. She opened it slightly, licking her lips, then opened her mouth more. She knew that when a man held his cock this close to her face he wanted to put it in her mouth. And now, suddenly, she wanted to have it in her mouth too.

He moved his body closer to hers, lining his dick up with her mouth. She lifted her head slightly and when they met his large cockhead started to enter her mouth. She had to open her mouth wider to fit it in past her teeth. He pressed forward, she moved her head and together they made his cock move deep into her mouth.

Then she wrapped her lips around his shaft. As soon as her skin came in contact with his there was an explosion of pleasure. She moaned, doubling down on the pressure of her lips and pressing her tongue up against his cock. She was rewarded with even more pleasure exploding out into her body. Her eyes rolled up into her head as she felt an orgasm warmly forced from between her legs, even though all she had done was close her mouth around the man’s cock.

The relaxing warmth of the orgasm eased her mind, dumbing her thoughts and allowing her animal instincts to take over. She started to move her head, sucking tightly as she did and using her tongue on his cock as she started to suck him off. She felt him growing harder in his mouth, the spongy mass of flesh becoming rigid as more blood flowed into it. The harder he got the more intense the waves of pleasure burning off of him became. Again she felt herself cum, a little harder this time.

In just a few brief moments she had gone from slowly, almost carefully taking his member into her mouth to fellating him like a wild animal. Her head moved back and forth, quickly bobbing up and down the top of his now fully erect cock. She sucked in tight as her head bobbed, but every time she reversed direction she would let the vacuum pressure break so she could take a breath of air. Each time this happened a little bit of saliva would leak from her lips and before long thick beads of spit were dripping from the long shaft of his cock.

As she sucked him off he ran a hand through her long black hair. Wherever his fingers come in contact with her scalp warm pleasure radiated from them, muddling her mind even further. Time stopped to mean anything for Misty, seconds felt like years of pleasure, yet minutes seemed to pass in mere moments.

Her mind was overwhelmed, her senses were overwhelmed. All she felt was pleasure, pleasure to an extent she had never imagined. She came over and over again, the feel of the orgasms becoming a rhyme that struck in rhythm to the motions of her head bobbing back and forth along his shaft. And every bit of pleasure she felt was doubled when it reached her breasts, expanding to fill their large size and making her cum harder.

Misty thrashed against her bindings. She wanted more reach out, to have more of her naked body in contact with this man’s flesh. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, pull him close. She wanted to feel his large cock buried deep inside her. She wanted to wrap her legs around him and hold him tight so his member never left his body. But above all she wanted to feel him touching her breasts, touching every sensitive inch of them.

In the back of her addled mind was a thought: the fear that that much contact with him would be too much. Even as she pulled against the leather bindings holding her to the bed that kept her hands from pulling the man closer to her she knew it was for the best.

And then both his hands were upon her head, tightly holding it in place. He thrust his cock one last time into her mouth, then began to pull back out. She sucked tightly on his cock, afraid he would pull it totally away from her. Then she felt it bounce in her mouth as his muscles contracted, followed a moment later by a torrential flood of thick semen flowing into her mouth.

Instinctual she tried to pull away, not wanting to taste his cum. But he continued to hold her head still as he groaned in pleasure and spurted more of his seed into her mouth. She had no choice but to let his bitter fluids land on her tongue. But as it did she found that it didn’t taste bitter at all. The taste hit her tongue like an explosion of pleasure, even greater than the feel of his skin touching hers. Her muscles tightened for a second then went totally limp, a long powerful orgasm exploding from her loins and easing all the tension in her body.

She was vaguely aware that the amount of cum that came from him was far larger than a normal man’s load, and she happily let it fill her mouth and balloon her cheeks. She refused to swallow at first, greedily savoring the taste in her mouth. It was sweet yet heady, making her senses feel overwhelmed with delicious tastes. The taste of his cum changed from moment to moment, like a shimmering mirage. The only constant was that it was the most amazing taste she had ever had.

The man finished cumming then pulled out of her mouth. Only then did she begin swallowing the mouthful of fluid in her mouth. As she swallowed she thought about the fact that this fluid couldn’t be cum. No man’s seed could taste this delicious, this amazing. Then again, she knew that this was no mere man.

Her eyes had been closed so she could concentrate just on the taste in her mouth. But now her eyes shot open. She looked up at the stranger. “More,” she whispered, her voice full of desperation and hunger.

“No, not yet,” he said.

She realized that his cock was still rock hard. He held it above her head, slowly moving it in a large circular motion. Her eyes followed it, transfixed by the sight. It glistened wetly, a light mixture of spit and cum covering the top part of it.

“Relax,” he said, his voice magical once again. “Feel pleasure from my touch, yes, but be calmed, be at ease. Feel the pleasure, yes, but don’t be overwhelmed by it.” As he spoke he kept moving his cock around in a circle, her eyes following it as if she were hypnotized by the fleshy staff. “Be at ease,” he said in a firm voice that flowed with power.

Her body went limp. She exhaled a long sigh of relaxation and her eyes sagged half closed. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper.

A moment later he climbed on top of her, sitting above her stomach so his cock rested between her breasts. She could feel that his dick was so long that it extended up through her massive breasts to almost touch the base of her neck. Everywhere his skin touched hers, and especially where his cock touched her, she felt the warm radiating pleasure. But it was dulled now, as if there were a mesh screen making the pleasure less intense, less overpowering yet still as enjoyable.

She breathed in and out with controlled slowness. She was aware that the warm pleasure coming from his cock was even more pleasurable where it touched her breasts. He shifted, his strong hands reaching under the side of her breasts and trying to lift them up. There was so much flesh there, so soft and fluidly malleable that he struggled for a moment. But then he managed to get a hold of her breasts in just the right way, lifting them up and wrapping them around his cock.

Misty sighed again, feeling a warm, slow orgasm almost leak from between her legs. Nearly every inch of his massive dick had tit flesh wrapped around it, and everywhere her breasts touched his cock felt ten times as good as his cock had been in her mouth. Yet because of his cum and whatever it had done to dull her sense she was able to handle this now, and she knew she wouldn’t have been able before.

He started to move his hips, causing his cock to slide up through her breasts, then back down. The bit of cum and saliva that had remained on his cock after pulling out of her mouth helped lubricate his movements. The smooth friction on her still overly sensitive breasts sent new waves of pleasure cascading through her. She felt warm orgasmic pleasure pulse from her pussy. It was an intoxicating feeling, something that mixed with her muddled mind in a confusing way. She wasn’t even sure if she was having an orgasm, it was just like one never ending climax that her body or her mind didn’t know how to process.

As he started to fuck her enlarged breasts faster he squeezed them tighter around his shaft. Lazily she looked up, watching the hypnotic sight of his bulbous cockhead popping in and out of the mass of breast flesh on her chest. The warm orgasmic not-climax she was feeling stretched on, clearly going to last as long as he was humping her chest.

Time lost meaning again. Seconds were once more eons and minutes moments again. And mixed in the confusion of overpowering yet dulled sensations was something new: a powerful connection between herself and the stranger. It was a connection she felt not with her body, but with some part of herself she had never been aware of and had no word for.

Their point of connection was between her breasts and his cock, and she felt that nameless something flowing between them. That thing she had never felt before, yet she knew had almost always been part of her, started to flow from her breasts into his cock. As it left her body she felt momentarily drained, as if he were hollowing her breasts out. But that feeling was quickly replaced as indescribable pleasure flowed into the emptiness.

She could feel herself growing weaker, becoming… less. And as she did she felt him becoming stronger, becoming more. As he drained her she started to feel light headed, sleepy and faint. Her eyes got heavier and she knew if this continued she would pass out, but she was okay with that. Everything felt so warm and pleasurable. She wanted it to continue, no matter what the cost.

And then, suddenly, everything stopped. He let go of her breasts and pulled away from her body. She felt drained, but not yet empty. Her head spun, she was dizzy and the word temporarily unrecognizable. She felt herself fading off into sleep, but was shocked back awake by the pleasurable feel of the stranger’s hands on her thighs, spreading her legs further open.

Weakly she opened her eyes and looked towards the end of the bed. He had untied her legs, although her arms were still secured in place. He was kneeling between her legs, spreading them open and lifting her body up as he prepared to enter her.

She took a deep breath in and then felt his firm cock head begin to press into her sex, moving past her moist labia and into her wet hole. Again she felt pleasure radiating from wherever her body touched his. It wasn’t the same as when his cock touched her breasts, not as overpoweringly perfect, but still highly enjoyable.

As he pressed himself into her she found the feeling of her moist softness around his rigid firmness more pleasurable than she had expected at first. There wasn’t the strength in the pleasure that had come from contact with her breasts, but there was a superior intimacy from having him inside her, from feeling her very being enveloping what she instinctively felt was the source of all his power.

Further and further he pressed into her, his almost inhumanly thick cock filling her fuller than she had ever been filled before. Her insides melted in pleasure as she felt herself stretching around him. Again she felt herself climaxing in the way that was beyond a simple orgasm. As he started to fuck her she didn’t feel the crashing waves of the utmost pleasure she reached with normal orgasm, instead she felt herself bobbing up and down on an ocean of pleasure whose baseline was greater than her normal summit of sexual bliss.

The pleasure was too much. Her mind began to crack, then melt. She held onto consciousness as long as she could, not wanting to slip away from the pleasure she was feeling. She tried to concentrate on something, center in on a feeling that could help her remain awake and aware. Her mind zeroed in on her breasts. They felt so large, so alien to her. As the man pounded her harder and faster she felt them fluidly flowing back and forth on her chest. Their large volume moved up towards her face, then back down towards her stomach.

For a moment this worked, but then her mind began to process just how good it felt to have her breasts moving this way. And then he started pounding her even faster, making the movement less of a gradual flow and more of a wild bounce. He pounded her so vigorously that her enlarged breasts started to bounce up and slap her in face. That sensation, the feeling of her own breasts slapping the bottom of her face, pushed her over the edge. Her whole body contracted in the biggest orgasm she had ever felt in her life by magnitudes.

The contracting of her vaginal muscles pushed the stranger over the edge too. With one final thrust he buried his massive cock as deep into her cunt as he could, then he let lose another supernaturally large load of cum. Misty felt it flooding into her, filling what little space remained around his large cock then moving up around its length before squelching out wetly around the base of his cock.

Misty screamed in pleasure. She arched her back, wrapped her legs around him and pulled him even closer to her. Still his cum continued to pour into her, the pressure of it blasting into her ensuring her orgasm continued. She felt it coming out around his cock and running down her taint and her ass cheeks onto the bed below her. Still screaming in pleasure, her eyes rolled into her head and she began to see stars.

Finally, having reached her breaking point, everything went black.


* * *


Misty felt rays of sunlight hitting her body, warming and waking her. She felt hungover, drained and still tired. All of her muscles were sore, and the warm sunlight on her skin made her aware that she was naked.

She rolled slightly onto her side as she began to wake up. As her body had moved from being flat on its back to its side she had felt her breasts shift as well, their unfamiliar mass moving then crashing down her side. Her eyes shot open and she looked at her chest, seeing that her breasts were nearly three times as big as they normally were.

She gasped, sitting up as memories of the previous night came crashing back into her mind. Parts of it were foggy, but the harder she tried to remember the more clear it all got. “It was real… all of it, real.” Looking down at her breasts for confirmation washed away any doubts she had.

She got to her feet, her legs shaky at first. She was aware that she felt not just physically drained, but spiritually drained as well. It was as if an energy she had never been without was missing now for the first time in her life. Yet, thinking back on the previous night, she knew that the emptiness she had felt at the end of the night was starting to fill back up. Whatever the stranger had drained from her was returning. Slowly, but it was returning.

In one corner of her room was a full length mirror not hung but leaned up against the wall. It had a large crack running down the center of it, but it still functioned well enough for Misty. Standing naked, she looked at her body. The man, no, the creature, had said that by the morning her breasts would be back to their normal size and her memories of the encounter would be gone. But with every moment that passed she remembered the night more clearly. And her breasts, although not as large as they had been during most of the previous night, were far larger than they had been a day ago.

She furrowed her brow. They were large. No, HUGE. Full and soft and heavy. They looked as if someone had taken the breasts of a morbidly obese woman and moved them onto her small, tight fame. They looked indecently huge on her, and they felt almost painfully heavy.

As she stared at them she began to notice something else. It was like a sparkling green shadow that flickered faintly into view. She blinked multiple times, but with each blink the shimmering green presence only grew clearer. She looked down at her breasts, and saw the halo around them more clearly. Looking back up into the mirror she saw the green, sparkling halo surrounded not just her breasts but her entire body.

Something in her mind clicked, and instinctively she was suddenly aware that what she was seeing was her aura, and that it was different from what it had been a day ago. Again, as if she suddenly knew something by pure instinct, she was aware that the halo was only visible around magical beings.

She closed her eyes and swallowed, concentrating on this new innate ability to know things. It was the potion he had given her. She had drunk far too much, and it had awoken something deep inside of her. Something in her blood that had been diluted through the generations to the point it was almost nonexistent. But somehow the overdose of the potion and the sexual vampire’s feeding off of her had combined and awoken it.

Opening her eyes she knew her new, large breasts would be permanent. She blinked, thinking about the halo she saw and how she didn’t want to see it any more. When her eyes opened it was gone, but she knew bringing it back would be as easy as thinking about it.

She wondered what all of this meant, hoping she would once again feel the answer simply appear in her mind. It didn’t. But someone would know, be able to explain these things to her. The sexual vampire that had done this to her, and he might have answers. And he had said there were others like him, and even more that were unlike him out there. Her instincts told her she would be able to see their magical auras, be able to tell who was more than human.

She’d be able to find them. To find answers, all she had to do was go looking for them.

Misty looked around her room. She saw how bare and empty it was, the majority of her possessions clothes. And most of them, the tops at least, certainly wouldn’t fit her anymore. She shrugged. Her mother was a large, heavy woman. Certainly a few of her shirts would fit her, and she could wear them till she got money to buy some tops that she actually liked.

After throwing a pair of pants on she went into her mother’s room to grab a few shirts. She felt a twitch in the back of her mind. She blinked, turning her new sense on, then looked around the room. There was something in the corner calling to her. It was a kind of glow, a visual impulse telling her something was hidden there. Misty found a small patch of carpet in the corner that was cut with the glow radiating from under it.

Lifting the cut piece of carpet up she found a hole in the floor, filled with a small box. It was unlocked, her mother apparently thinking the hiding place was safe enough. Apparently it had been, as she had never suspected there was anything hidden in the room.

Opening it revealed that it was her mother’s stash. There was a small glass pipe along with a mostly empty bag of pot. Filling most of the box was a large wad of cash, mostly hundreds. Misty picked it up and stared at it, slightly amazed to be holding that much money in her hand. She had no idea where the money had come from, or why her mother was saving it.

Under it was a few pieces of paper, bank statements and some legal documents. Flipping through them was confusing at first, but after a little bit she was able to understand what they meant. Her father, a man whom her mother had rarely talked about, seemed to have died around a decade ago. In his will he had left a small fortune to her, a fact her mother had been hiding from her. It seemed she had been using the money to pay for most of their life, but that the day Misty had turned eighteen the account had become solely hers, her mother no longer having access to it. The wad of hundreds must be the last of the money she had been able to take out on her own, a cash surplus that had been slowly been dwindling these last few months.

Maybe one day soon her mother would have told her about the money, maybe she wouldn’t have. Misty didn’t really care, the money was hers now and her mother couldn’t access it. She could do anything with this money, anything…

Putting a shirt on she then grabbed the cash and the paperwork. She walked back to her room and grabbed her old school bag. She threw a few things into it: some makeup, some clean underwear, a change of pants and then the banking paperwork.

Reaching for her trusty black hoodie she stopped, her fingers just inches from it. She knew with her new, larger breasts she’d never be able to wear the hoodie again. She thought about taking it with her for sentimental reasons, but decided not to. It had been her armor for years, as she went through the tribulations of her teenage years. But on that day, more than any in her life so far, she felt she had moved past being a teenager and into adult hood. She’d leave the hoodie behind with the rest of her life.

She found her wallet, made sure she had her driver’s license. She knew what she would do next. She’d leave home, never to return. She left a note to her mother, telling her what a shitty parent she had always been, that she had found the money, and was leaving. She told her not to come looking for her, that they never needed speak again.

She’d go to the bank. Take some more money out. Go buy a car. Buy some new clothes. Then she’d leave… leave her home town, get away from her mother. Then she’d start looking, looking for the people, the things, she now knew were out there.

She told herself she’d be looking for answers, and she would be. But she’d be looking for something else: the chance to feel the sexual pleasure she had felt the night before. Her life had always been one without meaning, a listless affair. But now she had something to give her meaning, something to chase. She would find that pleasure again and make it hers.

%d bloggers like this: