A cloaked female figure strolled down the forest path whistling happy and with a bounce in her step. She threw the hood of her traveling cloak back to reveal that she was a young, pretty, blue skinned Night Elf. Her features were narrow and pointed like most of her race, with her ears long and pointed and sticking out well past her long grayish-blue hair. Her cheeks had a slight purple hue to them and her full lips were light purple in tone.
Most striking, other than her youthful beauty, were the glowing tattoos on her face. They were angular, pointed lines that were etched into her skin. They glowed and pulsed with icy blue energy and her eyes also glowed with the same blue light, all a sign that she was a powerful elemental mage given to the study of ice and frost.
She was dressed as an adventurer, covered in gear with a short sword hanging from her hip and her mage staff in her hand. Even though she was currently using it as a walking stick the air around it was cool and hoar frost covered its length except where her dainty blue hand held it.
The Night Elf slowed as she approached a crossroads. Where the roads met there was a large stone in the center of the path. The rock jutted out of the ground and stood a foot taller than her. Carved into a large flat side was a twisting spiral and as she approached it began to glow with blue magical energy.
Once she was within reach of the stone she came to stop, still whistling happily. Words that glowed blue began to appear in the air, floating and bobbing before her. She read them nodding happily. The stone was warning her which way not to head for there was great danger nearby.
“Thanks, stone,” she said with a happy, pretty laugh that echoed through the forest. She then waved the floating words away and spoke to the stone. “But even though your warnings are dire I will not be heading them this day! For I, Ryvlull Thostrull the ice mage am in search of treasure and I know the dangerous dungeon ahead has yet to be looted!”
The glowing spiral on the stone sparked as if in response to her words and then the magic blue glow quickly faded, leaving only cool lightless stone behind. Soon she’d need to leave the well trod road to find the dungeon. She stopped, pulling out a folded map form her pocket. She unfolded it and turned it about till she was able to locate her surroundings.
Looking up she smiled. “Yes, just through there,” she said happily, pointing ahead. “Just a little further and then I can delve into this ancient dungeon and loot it of all its treasures!”
She thought back to how everyone at the adventurer’s guild had told her not to try and tackle this dungeon. They had said other adventurers more seasoned then her had tried and failed. She laughed at the thought. So what if she was inexperienced? She was one of the most naturally skilled and powerful ice mages that had graduated from the college of magic she had attended. She was confident that whatever monsters or traps guarded the treasures hidden in this dungeon would be no danger to her.
Turning form the road she pressed on, eager to reach her destination.
The woods she headed out into were thick at first but the land started to slowly rise and as it did the trees began to become less closely packed together. A few times Ryvlull stopped, closing her eyes and concentrating on the winds of magic flowing through the forest. They felt… strange. Not evil, although there was an antagonistic feel in the winds. Along with the winds she could feel that there was powerful magic nearby and it felt as if it was both drawing her near and trying to repel her at the same time.
She simply shrugged, pressing forward and assuming the feeling was coming from the dungeon. She was correct, although she should have been far more worried than she was. Her senses tingled as she moved forward and soon she had put her map away. The menacing power she felt would lead her forward more directly than any map would.
The landscape moved ever upwards, but at a slow gradual climb. As the trees continued to grow less dense she failed to notice subtle changes to the vegetation around her. There were many wildflowers scattered through the woods and near the road they had been of many colors yet the closer she got to her destination the more frequent the flowers, no matter their species, bloomed crimson red. Some even had faint magical glows to them that, had she been traveling at night, would have been unmistakable. But Ryvlull failed to notice this as she was so fixated on following the trail of magical energy before her.
There were other signs that a strange magic held sway over the land surrounding the hidden dungeon. The nearer she got the more patches of bright red mushrooms were all about her. Ryvlull did notice these but she was no ranger and had no alchemical skills so she was totally ignorant of how potent the fungus was.
They were Tookabrew Mushrooms. They grew large and bright red to attract sentient beings but were frequently puffed up and full of spores. Should they be touched they often exploded and the spores they shot out in a heavy cloud would put most sentient women into a deep slumber full of powerful sexual dreams and upon waking they would find themselves incredibly horny. Men it would not put asleep, instead it would put them in an uncontrollable sexual rage where they would lose all control till they had emptied their balls. The mushrooms were dangerous to harvest but if one could collect them they could be used to brew powerful potions or ales that could make all who drank it incredibly horny.
The mushrooms had once been very rare in Alaria but that was no longer so. Alaria was a world full of change, although most that inhabited did not see this. A perverse, although not necessarily evil, force known as The Corruption was spreading through Alaria changing its people, land, plants, even the very gods themselves. The Tookabrew Mushrooms were one sing of this as they only grew in areas where that were heavily saturated by The Corruption.
Ryvlull knew none of this. She was a prodigy when it came to magic, especially her frosty elemental magic, but beyond that her knowledge was limited. She was also very young, very naive, and very sexually innocent. She was by far no virgin but so far the frequent trysts she’d had with other mages had all been soft and tender and only been with other members of her own race. As far as she knew sexuality was a tender, soft thing that came in privacy. She knew not how lewd and forceful sexuality could be.
Eventually she came to a rocky uprising, a sheer rise a few feet taller than her. From the looks of things going around would take time. Her pack had some climbing gear but the young Night Elf did not bother to pull it out. Instead she lifted her staff and began muttering an enchantment.
The air around her grew cold, her breath misting out of her mouth as she muttered the arcane words. She showed no discomfort at the sudden drop in temperature, if anything she seemed more at ease in the cold.
She took a few steps back, tracing glowing blue arcane glyphs in the air before her then drawing circular outlines around them. She took one final step back, watching the glowing floating shapes hover and bob in place then thrust the glowing blue crystal atop her staff into them. They shot forward and exploded with a flash of blue.
Her traveling cloak billowed away from the cool blast and when her eyes had recovered from the bright flash she saw icy steps leading from where she stood up to the top of the ledge. Smiling happily she began walking up them. As she went she kept one hand behind her back, the fingers spread out. The ice melted behind her and turned into sparking blue energy that flowed up into her hand. By the time she stepped up onto the top of the ledge the ice stairs were gone and most of the mana it had cost her to cast the spell had returned to her staff after travelling through her body.
She had to press through some more trees then came upon a large clearing. She had to stop and admire the beauty stretched out before her. There was a small lake and looking across it she saw a thick forest slowly rising as the ground swelled suddenly up into a mighty mountain range. Not far after the tree line ended were jagged peaks covered with white snow and she yearned to travel up into that cold. But any such journeys would have to wait for she had arrived at her destination.
To her left, filling the open ground between the edge of the forest she had emerged from and the lake before her, were crumbling ruins. The architecture was strange, the form and style not that of any civilization that still lived in Alaria.
All over the world there were ruins like this, some more intact than others, some barely leaving signs of their existence. They were all from before the Great Collapse. At one point Alaria had been full of powerful, advanced nations and empires. But some great calamity had befallen the world and civilization had nearly been wiped out. It had taken ages for it to return and most knowledge from before the Great Collapse was now lost. All that remained were the scattered ruins in the wilds that had claimed most of the world.
She had journeyed to ruins before but none had been like these. There was a raw power in the air here like she had never felt. And not just power but some driving force that was trying to alter the world around her. She could taste it in the magic flowing through the air, like two opposing wills trying to tug the world, and her, in two different directions. One force was pushing her away as if to try and keep her from this place while the other called her forward.
It was the force calling her forward that she felt most strongly. She felt it as a throbbing hum that felt like it was revealing a path through the crumbling ruins. At one time this place must have been some mighty temple or keep that stood multiple stories tall but now it was little more than a dangerous pile of rocks, shattered and fallen in on its self and worn down by time and the elements.
Yet as she followed the strange power leading her forward and climbed deeper into the rubble of the ruins she found sections that were more intact than not. There was writing on them, writing in a language none living knew but it was clear they were magical in nature for as she moved ever deeper into the ruins the ancient writing and runes started to glow faintly.
At the outside of the ruins those glowing runes and glyphs were blue or white but as she delved further into the ruins the glow slowly became more and more red. At times, when the red glow was most intense, it sparked as if the magic in it was angry and eager to be released.
Everywhere she felt magic pressing in on her and since she was so attuned to magical energy felt it more strongly than most would. Her head started to feel stuffy and her heart was pounding far faster than it had any right to be. And all through her body was a growing warmth that was making her feel an overwhelming hunger. But what her body was growing hungry for was not clear to her, not at first at least.
As she neared the center of the ruins she felt that the door leading down into the dungeon must be close. She was looking down, searching for a trap door or flight of stairs leading into the earth. Put the magic pulling her forward was not telling her to look down, it was telling her to go up. This confused her and as she turned a corner she found a perfectly intact flight of stone steps leading up.
She climbed them, moving slowly. By the time she neared the top she was panting and tugging at her clothing. She felt hot, so very, very hot. The air around her was thick and musty but as she climbed out into the open air at the top of the ruins a cool breeze was blowing up from the lake and it felt amazing on her hot skin, doing much to momentarily sooth her.
Her head was pounding and she felt dizzy and confused. And before long she was once again hot, so very hot. Barely aware of what she was doing she took her gear off and placed it in a corner along with her staff. She then started undressing, removing her traveling cloak and the tight form fitting leather outfit she wore under it.
Slowly she revealed her naked body to the cool open air. She was a Night Elf and like most of her race she was gracefully tall and thin, yet she had a plump, firm little ass and perky breasts that were a bit more than a pleasant handful.
The glowing icy lines etched into her skin were not just on her face. They ran down the sides of her neck and dove in pointed lines towards the top of her cleavage. From there more of the glowing tattoos twisted together, wrapping around under her arms and meeting at her spine. There they were etched down her back to just above the crack of her ass.
As soon as she was undressed she pulled her bed roll out and threw it on the stone ruins. She then lay down on it, resting back on her elbows with her legs spread wide open. The heat she felt through her body was so intense that she was panting and even sprawling out in the open like this was giving her no relief.
She began to twist her hands together, muttering a quick enchantment. The air around her hands grew cold and the very tips of her long, thin fingers grew slightly icy. She moved back onto her back and started to run her hands down her small, thin frame, hovering her palms an inch or two above her blue skin. The cold air radiated out form her hands, cooling her hot flesh.
Ryvlull closed her eyes when her hands reached her firm breasts. She held her hands over them, letting the coolness emanate out onto her hot flesh. Her dark violet nipples quickly hardened and grew into thick fleshy nubs from the cool air blasting onto them. She cooed and moved her icy hands closer, pinching her hard nipples with just the tips of her fingers.
The one aspect of her own sexuality she’d explored on her own was how her magic could make her hands icy cold and how much she enjoyed the feel of ice on her bare skin. It was something other ice mages had thought scandalous and she had never found a partner able and willing to use icy hands on her. The only time she pleasured herself was with icy hands. It was her one secret kink, although she had no idea how timid it really was compared to the perverse sexual desires many held hidden in their hearts.
One of her chilled hands remained near her chest, the icy air blasting from it lessening as she began to grope and massage her firm breasts. Her other hand slowly snaked down her body, the iced fingertips dancing across her blue skin and leaving a trail of frost behind. She shuddered, enjoying the freezing bite of the ice on her hot skin and then enjoying the feel of the ice melting away from her natural warmth.
Finally the wandering hand reached the split between her legs. She shifted slightly, thrusting her hips up as her hand neared her sex. For a moment she simply held her hand over her pussy, cool air blasting onto her warm, moist folds. Then she lessened the chill air, although she kept her fingertips covered in frost.
She began by rubbing her pubic mound then sliding her fingers down, massaging her outer labia. She moaned at the feel of her iced fingers on her hot flesh. Like all Elves she was hairless down there so her cold fingers were free to explore every inch of her cunt. The iced fingers wandered, massaged, and teased as she writhed and moaned in pleasure.
Slowly they worked their way not into her moist dripping hole but rather up the blue fleshy hood covering her clit. Gently she placed one frosted finger down on it and began to caress her clit, freezing the sensitive bud through the hood off flesh.
At first she was lightly and gently playing with herself. But with every moment that passed she worked her body harder and more furiously. She was cresting towards the release of climax but seemed unable to reach that peak of relief. Before long she was furiously masturbating, the only thing in the world in her mind that mattered was getting off yet it was the one thing that seemed out of reach. Even her icy fingers were not enough to push her over the edge.
Then the winds of magic blew stronger and she heard a whispered carried into her mind on the gust of magical power. A suggestion, a little hint blown gracefully into her mind. She headed the barely heard words, shifting and taking the hand that had been playing with her breasts and wrapping it around under her body then back towards her cunt.
Her hand stopped before she reached her pussy, her middle finger finding her tight, hairless, puckered asshole. As she started to finger it she found much of her pussy juices had dripped and oozed down leaving her asshole more than wet enough to be easily played with. As she furiously rubbed at her clit with one hand she started pressing a finger of the other hand up her asshole.
As soon as her finger worked in past her sphincter and plunged deep into her rectum the orgasm that had been bubbling just below the surface burst free. She howled in delight and arched her back, moaning and bucking as she continued to work her body with both hands. She rode the waves of the powerful orgasm and was only partially aware of the strange feeling that had come with it.
It felt almost like using a large amount of mana to cast a spell, yet it was not the same. There was an energy she’d never noticed before, one that had always been present in her but till that point she had been invisible to her mind. It was flowing out of her, rushing towards something nearby. As her orgasm peaked and she felt that energy nearly drained from her she heard creaking stones.
She gasped and sat up, pulling her hands away from her body. Not far away a stone wall was sliding to the side, the writing around the revealed opening glowing with intense red energy. Somehow her orgasm had powered the magic of the door and opened the way into the dungeon!
Almost immediately her head began to clear. She stood, quickly putting her cloths back on and wondering what had gotten into her. She almost never masturbated and certainly not while exploring ruins! She was slightly ashamed but since there was no witness to what she had done the shame was short lived.
As she put her pack back on and grabbed her staff she noticed something else. The energy she’d felt drained from her to open the door was coming back, as if her body was constantly making it. She wondered what the energy was and why her studies had never revealed it to her. For a moment she wondered if it was sexual energy but she dismissed this thought right away. What kind of place would have its secrets fueled by sexual energy?
Then she was ready, redressed and rearmed. The opening lead to a staircase that went down into the earth, the opening to the dungeon fully revealed to her. She took a deep breath, readied a defensive spell, and started moving down the stairs.
The stairs went down and down, deep into the earth. The light from above was starting to fade and Ryvlull was just thinking about stopping to get a torch out when the way before her lit up. As flickering green light began to illuminate the way ahead she could see sconces on the walls, green mage flame igniting in them. As she pressed forward she would soon discover that the lights of the dungeon came to life as soon as she was in sight of them.
When she finally came to the bottom of the long stairs she found herself in a hall that stretch-out out far before her. Green mage light illuminated much of the vastness before her but beyond where the torches were lit there was only darkness and it was impossible to tell how far the hall went on.
As she started moving cautiously down the hall the first thing she noticed was how well preserved this place was. The dungeon looked as if it had been built mere months ago and there was no sign of dust or dirt on the floors or walls. She knew the place was ancient, as ancient as the crumbled ruins above, yet down here it was perfectly preserved. There was powerful magic here, a magic that was protecting this place from the ravages of time.
She soon found doors leading off from the main hallway. She stopped to explore each, finding some smaller halls that lead to even smaller rooms or simply dead ends. None of the side passages or rooms she explored had anything of value or even noteworthiness in them.
Most rooms were small and simply empty although all of the walls, no matter where she went, were covered in writing and glyphs she could not read. Much of it glowed faintly with red magical energy. Pressing on she started to get the sense that this place had once been a temple of some kind. The unreadable imagery and layout of the side rooms seemed vaguely religious to her, although as she worshiped no god or goddess she admitted to herself that she might not be the best judge of such things.
Ever forward she moved, finding all the doors leading off form the main hallway led to dead ends. It was slow going as she was on the lookout for traps or guardians or even the monsters that seemed always crawl and dig their way into places such as this.
At one point the main hall widened and the side passages stopped appearing. Beautifully carved columns lined the walls of the wider hall and she slowed even further as she admired the art and glyphs carved into them. As she went on there was less and less writing on them and more and more stylized art. At first she found the style so unfamiliar she had a hard time understanding what was depicted but with each column she looked at she started to be able to make out the images with more ease.
Eventually as the things depicted became clearer to her she felt her cheeks start to burn and found herself having a hard time stopping to concentrate on the now clear details. The things they were depicting… they were very lewd. Sexual acts and depictions of male and female figures with exaggerated anatomy. There were carvings of men with penises nearly as big as the rest of their body and women with breasts so big they looked comical in their size.
Soon the depictions of male figures lessened then disappeared all together. For a time the artwork depicted only women and there was a definite emphasis on their breasts. There was still a sense that this was a temple of some kind but she began to wonder just what kind of temple it must have been to be so openly sexual in nature. There was also the odd layout of the place, the hall went ever forward, straight and at a slight decline so that it moved deeper and deeper into the earth as if what lay at the end was buried deep and the halls were simply a way to get to the hidden thing.
Moving forward she picked up her pace, hoping to move past this section where naked women and huge breasts were displayed all around her. It made her uncomfortable as she was unaccustomed to public displays of sexuality.
The artwork had also begun to make her feel a bit self conscious. Her breasts were not tiny but they also weren’t large. They had always felt more than adequate but the huge breasted women displayed vivaciously all around her was making her feel her own breasts were inferior.
She picked up her pace further, pressing on at a near run. With one hand she held her staff and the other hand been held up holding back defensive spell. But as there had so far been no sign of any traps a couple of hours after exploring she let the spell sizzle out. She just wanted to be past this section and all its huge lewd breasts.
Ryvlull didn’t notice at first when her free hand went to her tight leather top and started tugging at it. At one point she grunted in discomfort, pulling at the clothing. It was digging into her skin, almost painfully so and after a little while longer the discomfort was too much to ignore. She stopped, throwing her cloak back and looking down at her top to figure out what was going on.
She blinked, not understanding what she was seeing. Her free hand moved up, cupping one of her breasts and squeezing it. She blinked again. This wasn’t right. Her breasts… they were too big! So big that her leather top was painfully digging into her bulging blue breast flesh.
Ryvlull didn’t understand. She was confused. So confused that she failed to notice how unnaturally muddled her mind had become. It was a subtle thing, worked by the magic of the dungeon. It had slowly been dulling her wits, casually and gently so that she would not even notice herself growing dumber.
The Night Elf adventurer didn’t understand why her breasts were bigger. What she did understand was that they were continuing to increase in size and that her tight top was growing ever more painful. There was only one thing to be done so she did it.
She wiggled out of her pack and dropped it to the ground then took her traveling cloak off and let it fall. Almost without thinking she placed her staff down on the ground near her pack then stood, fumbling with the thick leather cord that ran interwoven through the front of her top, holding it closed in place around her breasts. She began to loosen it, the leather fabric opening and exposing her ever expanding cleavage. But instead of giving her relief this only worsened things as the rate her breasts were growing seemed to increase now that they had more room. There was no choice, she had to completely open the top up. And since that left her ever expanding breasts hanging free she simply took the garment off and tossed away.
Now that she was topless her breast grew at a much faster rate. She stood holding them protectively as they swelled and grew in size. Her flesh was hot and sore as it expanded and the feeling was leaving her feeling drained and unable to move on, so she simply stood and held them as they got bigger and bigger.
Eventually the growth slowed then stopped completely. Her blue colored breasts had grown so big that each was now larger than her head. They were wide, thick, breasts that hung heavily down her small torso. Holding them up and looking at them she could see that her small little violet nipples had been stretched out. The nubs were now large fleshy buds each as big as her thumb and her areolas were stretched out so each was almost as big as the palm of her hand.
She was fascinated by her breasts. She grabbed one with both hands and lifted it up so she could see her nipple better. She leaned down, her heavy breathing making her nub harden. Overcome she opened her mouth, lifted her breast to her face, and leaned into her tit as she took her own nipple in her mouth. Her breast was so big now she could easily suck on her own nipple and she found that doing so felt incredible.
Ryvlull dropped to the floor, leaning over and burying her face in her breasts. She licked and sucked on her nipples, first one and then the other then back to the first. It felt amazing, she had no idea a woman’s nipples could be so sensitive! She couldn’t stop, it felt too good. And she found that although her breasts were still tender that squeezing and massaging the dense meat felt nearly as good as sucking on her nipples.
Her moans grew louder and louder, echoing through the hall around her. The green flickering light of the mage flame danced across her naked breasts as she mauled them. Soon one of her hands had slipped away from her breasts and wandered down to slide into her pants. Barely even aware of what she was doing she started to masturbate as she kept playing with and sucking her big blue tits.
Soon she was lying on her back, mauling her tits with her mouth and hand while her other hand was down her pants. She was furiously fingering herself, using two fingers to pound her dripping wet cunt-hole. She’d never been so horny, never felt so lost in the ecstasy of sexual bliss. The heat inside her swelled and soon an orgasm exploded from within.
She would have screamed in pleasure but she couldn’t stop sucking on the tit shoved into her face. Instead she simply moaned into her tit-meat as her tightening vaginal muscles forced her fingers out of her cunt.
Then, after the explosion of pleasure, she collapsed. She lay limp, breathing heavily. The pleasure of the orgasm had further dulled her sense and her mind was so addled now she didn’t even realize it was strange her breasts had grown and that she’d stopped to play with herself in the middle of a dungeon delve.
After lying on the ground for a while she started to stir, slowly rising. Her mind was still heavily muddled and she felt as though she was in a fog-filled dream as she began putting her clothes back on.
When it came time to put her top on she found it no longer fit, for her breasts were FAR too big now. With a shrug she tossed the top to the side, abandoning it as she continued to dress and gather her gear. She still had her traveling cloak and that could be wrapped over her top, although it hung open with her huge blue tits hanging out.
Finally, she was ready to move on. She started pressing further into the dungeon, whistling happily and not at all realizing how strange it was that her breasts had not only been so enlarged but that she was happily facing the dangers of the dungeon with them hanging out and bouncing all about as she walked forward.
After traveling forward for another ten minutes through the seemingly never-ending central passage her mind was beginning to clear, but only a bit. She still was not able to recognize how strange her current physical state was, but she WAS able to actually pay attention to her surroundings once again.
She had to stop to investigate a large section of wall covered in beautifully carved lettering. The letters were large and drawn with flashy curves as they glowed and sparkled with pretty magical light. But the thing that had made Ryvlull stop to investigate the section of wall was neither how pretty the writing was nor how magical it seemed. No, what had caused her to stop was that she could read the lettering.
When she had first glanced at the lettering it seemed to be written in the same ancient language all the other writing in this place was written in. But when she looked again the letters seemed to have shifted, becoming the clear letters of the common language most in Alaria now spoke.
It was clear to her, even in her muddled mental state, that this section of wall had a powerful enchantment on it to make it so the writing could be read by anyone who viewed it. She felt drawn to the writing, wondering what the creators of this place had found so much more important than anything else written on the dungeon walls. She knew an enchantment like this took great skill but it wouldn’t be particularly draining to create if one knew how to do it. There shouldn’t have been any reason the creators would not have been able to make ALL of the writing in this place like this, readable by all who viewed it.
Holding her staff tightly in one hand she stepped up to the wall, staring at the writing before her. The letters glowed with red sparking energy and they seemed to shift and dance slightly as if the magic making them readable was only barely held in place.
She placed a finger of her free hand onto the first line and slowly began to read the words aloud. “I am a slut,” she said slowly, moving her finger along the line of text, “and I deserve to cum.”
Pausing, she furrowed her brow. “What a strange thing to leave here, written so anyone can read it,” she said to herself. “I wonder if this is the words of an important priest that ran this temple? Or maybe if this place was dedicated to some perverse sexual god these were their words?”
The answers were not apparent so she moved her finger to the next line of text and kept reading. “I am a whore and I deserve to cum. I am a fucktoy and I deserve to cum.”
She stopped, blushing at the perverse words. Yet she had to keep reading, she had to know who had transcribed these words and why. It never occurred to her that the words were not some record of someone who lived ages ago. If her brain had not been so addled she might have stopped reading, fearing the words were actually a trap that was activated by being read.
“I am a cunt and I deserve to cum,” she said, continuing to read the writing on the wall. “I am a bimbo and I deserve to cum. I am a slave to my cunt and I deserve to cum. I am a cock addict and I deserve to cum. I am a cock-sleeve and I deserve to cum. I am a cum bucket and I deserve to cum.”
She paused then, seeing that the words simply repeated after this. She still had her finger under the last line she had read. As she tried to ponder what the words meant the wall where her finger touched started to heat and she felt magical energy building up.
The energy built up fast and then, with a flash of burning heat, she felt it shoot up into her body through her finger and down into her core. Instinctively she pulled her hand back from the inscriptions but it was far too late, whatever magic it contained had already been transferred to her.
Even as she was pulling back she felt it starting to affect her: a quick swelling of pleasure inside her body. She felt her womanhood moisten and begin to drip just as there was a new flaring of pleasure, intense enough to force her to climax.
Grinding her thighs together and moaning in confusion and pleasure she stumbled back from the wall, staring helplessly at the words and realizing she had fallen for some magical trap. But a single forced orgasm was not all she was to suffer through. As soon as it had begun to subside another exploded in her core, sending draining, powerful pleasure flowing through her body.
Her legs were weak. The orgasms were so powerful and so forced it felt as though they drained her very life essence. She dropped to her knees, moaning helplessly and looking up at the wall before her. The writing… it was calling to her. As a third orgasm wracked her body she found she couldn’t look away from the writing, found she had to start reading it aloud again.
“I am a slut and I deserve to cum,” said weakly, the sentence punctuated by a forced orgasm. “I am a whore and I deserve to cum,” she quickly added, another orgasm forced from her body as she said the words. “I am a fucktoy and I deserve to cum,” she mumbled weakly, with another draining orgasm at the end. On and on she went, reading each sentence and then cumming over and over again.
As she knelt she realized something else was wrong. Yes, the repeated forced orgasms were sapping her of her energy but the weakness was more than that. She felt a growing heaviness. Slowly she realized it was her breasts… they were getting heavier! No, not just heavier but bigger! Looking down, no longer needing to stare at the wall to repeat the words for she had them memorized, she kept reciting them and cumming over and over again. And with each orgasm she saw her already enlarged breasts growing bigger and bigger, and BIGGER!
She recited the words, cumming over and over again, as her breasts swelled to inhumanly large size. Soon each blue mound of tit-meat was as large as her entire torso, huge heavy mounds of flesh that pooled up in her lap and that only kept growing larger and larger. Before long their weight was too much to even sit, she was pulled down to the ground by their impossible size and weight.
Ryvlull lay on her side, the mounds of soft breast flesh piled up beside her, one impossibly massive tit sitting atop the other. She was still reciting the words, but she did so quietly now for she was so drained she could barely speak. Her body slumped and slowly her voice died, yet she continued to recite the words in her head and thus kept cumming which made her breasts grow ever larger.
The pleasure and the changes to her body were too much and the Night Elf ice mage’s mind was nearly broken by the ordeal. She lay, drooling and convulsing with each forced orgasm, the words repeating in her head now just background noise to a mind barely about to think. Her tits were colossally gigantic, laying on the ground beside her and each looking as if they took up the same area as the rest of her body. Her eyes were open, but only barely so and it was clear that without the aid of another this would be the end of her.
As her addled mind finally stopped reciting the words, and thus her breasts stopped growing, a shadowed figure emerged from behind her. Drooling, her barely open eyes glassy, she looked up at it and moaned helplessly.
The figure knelt down beside her. Even in the direct light of the torches lighting the ancient temple the figure seemed to still be only a shadow as if it wasn’t really there. It moved down, leaning in to whisper in Ryvlull’s ear and as it did its ghostly hands reached out and began to caress her gigantic mounds of breast flesh.
“No amount of tit-meat is ever enough,” the shadow whispered to her.
Ryvlull shifted slightly, trying to look at the shadow but finding her eyes couldn’t focus on the figure. But the whispered words helped her mind clear and the caress of her breasts made some of the exhaustion her body felt leave. The figure’s presence was incredibly reassuring and its attention comforting. The words it had said echoed in her mind and she found them to be self evidently true.
“Yes,” she whispered back, her voice weak and barely audible. “No amount of tit-meat is ever enough.”
“That’s right,” the shadow said soothingly, caressing her breasts some more.
Ryvlull moaned in delight at the touch and felt the tender soreness that ached through the enlarged breast-meat lessen and then disappear completely. She even felt as though the breasts were shrinking back down a little, although she wasn’t certain.
“These mounds of tit-meat, they are a blessing,” the shadow said. “They are the key to freeing me.”
She nodded. “Yes, a blessing. The key to freeing you.” The shadow was right, the breasts were important, they needed to be this huge. She saw that now. But who was this shadowed figure? She still couldn’t make out any details. Even the voice seemed formless, she couldn’t even tell if it was male or female.
“Soon I shall leave you. You’ll feel yourself re-energized, refreshed. My blessing shall be upon you and the weight of your tit-mountains will be gone. To you they will feel no heavier then your tiny natural breasts felt. And this will seem normal to you. Your breasts being so large they hang down to an inch from the ground when you stand will seem right, proper and natural. When I am gone you shall rise, you shall move with ease and grace. And you shall press on, to find my prison so that you can release me.”
She nodded. “Yes… I shall rise. I shall press on. I shall free you.”
The shadow started to pull away. Just as it said she felt refreshed. The huge mounds of sagging, wide, fat, blue-skinned tit-meat hanging from her chest felt so light it was like they weren’t there. She sat up, the soft mounds of flesh shifting and oozing into her lap. “Wait!” she called to the shadow as it began to disappear. “Who or what are you?”
“A prisoner,” the formless voice whispered as the shadow started to fade from sight. “An ancient god imprisoned here countless ages ago. Slowly I’ve used my power to weaken my prison. I was able to send this sliver of my essence to give you my blessing. Now you must save me, Ryvlull. You must free me…” With a final sigh the voice was gone and the shadow no more.
She stood, a strange sight to behold. Each of her swollen blue breasts were so large that their mass was far more than her torso and when standing they hung heavily down to just above the ground. They should have been too large and heavy for the thin Night Elf to manage, impossibly large breasts seemingly too big to exist. Yet she moved as if they weren’t even there, moved as though their weight was not felt by her. When she stood she was more breast than woman yet she showed no sign of feeling their presence.
It was as if she was a new woman. There was a fire in her eyes now, the determination only the devoutly faithful felt. She grabbed her gear and turned to face the passageway before her, seemingly not caring she was topless and impossibly largely titted. Then, moving as though driven magically forward, she pressed on. The massive mounds of hanging tit-meat swayed as she went, shifting from side to side and at times the bottom of them even brushing against the stone floor, but she showed no sign of being affected by their weight or size. She moved forward as if in a trance, pressing on to free the ancient god imprisoned ahead.
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