Mistress Amber Ch 04

The moment I step into the pool of silver, I'm overcome by a strange sense of multiplicity.

If it weren't for that, I'd momentarily feel like Jesus Christ himself, given that while the pool is clearly full of liquid -- albeit silvery, metallic stuff -- I'm somehow able to stand atop its stillness. A shockwave ruptures through me, that peculiar awareness of the many, of being a single thing with ever so many parts, and any wittiness (which none of the nonhumans would understand anyway) immediately washed away.

'Holy shit.'

It's me who says it, but which one? It's like being in a hall of mirrors, surrounded by reflections of myself that move in time with me. Yet randomness must kick in, because the appearance of unity promptly fades, leaving only a dim suggestion of "oneness" in the back of my thoughts. The dryads begin issuing orders to the throng of Peters, the manifold forms of myself all identical and yet clearly not of the same mind. When I command a limb to move, it does so -- on myself and on several others -- but the realisation hits that elsewhere, it's not about me giving orders so much as it is about the others, some number of them, choosing to do the very same things as myself.

That is, of course, until the incredibly attractive daughters of Alannah of the Ancient Grove, herself maddeningly beautiful in her motherly fashion, start distracting those other selves and sending them off.

Sending them off to the biggest orgy I've ever contemplated, and half of the participants are myself.

The army of Peters marches to the central grove, to handle the lusty necessities of the bees and hornets, so unfairly denied the satiation usually provided by their monarchs. I'm one of the last to begin moving despite -- or perhaps because of -- the fact that I'm the original, the progenitor.

'Who catches your fancy?' Alannah says, strutting up beside me. She rests a warming hand atop my shoulder and gently guides me along after the host, led by her daughters, Sharlaya and Vindrelleth, and the twin nectar queens, Lamithan and Ashenath. 'The mirror should've sensed the urgency, and created sufficient numbers, so it's up to you who pursue. Does anyone catch your eye? I can name them for you, honey.'

It's strange, that despite possessing a shared and vast family, the thriae and vespids are each distinct individuals. They're all exquisite, all beautiful, all shapely to the extreme. A bee drone would be nice, with their fat tits and womanly hips. Or perhaps a hornet praetor, that fusion of musculature and thick womanly curves? Long and short hair, lots of makeup and very little, revealing clothes and conservative ones...

...and little by little, pairings are made. Possible Peters linking arms or lips with these insectoid beauties and disappearing off into the trees, to sate the lusts of the poor abandoned creatures. I shouldn't simply be staring, really. I shouldn't simply be marvelling, because I know that something needs to be done, and if I want pick of the litter -- because let's be honest, these other Peters are just as inexperienced as me, and favour the "traditional" femininity among the hives -- then I'd best act fast.

'I want this one,' a woman says, haughty and just the faintest bit cruel. 'I'm not sharing him with you, you nectar-craving slut.'

'Some Princess you are, Mylessa!' another woman cries, softer, more elegant, but still edged with a kind of superiority. 'As if I would want to share him with you.'

'Watch your mouth, Phaltara. I outrank you.'

'We're both princesses, Mylessa. You don't outrank me, though I am older than you, so--'

The crowd of selves breaks apart to reveal a deeply troubled Peter caught between a hornet and a bee, each of whom is about halfway to eight feet in height, and each of whom is unearthly in their beauty.

And each of whom, it's clear on passing inspection, is a futanari.

'Princesses,' Alannah says, trotting forwards. 'There are enough Peters for you to each have one. Just be patient, and everyone will be allocated a partner. Please, don't fight over the poor thing between you.'

The two royal-blooded beauties, tall and elegant, their bodies excessive in voluptuousness -- the bee possessing larger breasts and fatter hips, somewhat chubbier of form, while the hornet is more muscular, and possesses clear definition to her shape -- growl at one another but otherwise fall quiet as the throng of myself spreads far and wide, all to the carnal chorus of the two queens continuing to rut like rabbits.

'I...don't think that's true, Your Ladyship,' the vespid princess -- Mylessa? -- says, a great deal more subtle than her prior rudeness. 'I've counted, and Phaltara has counted, and...you're one short.'

'One short? But the mirror...'

Alannah trails off, face growing bothered as one of the thriae drones -- the full-bodied beauties that make up the female caste of the bees -- wanders forwards, alone, without a Peter. She looks dejected, sad as can be.

'Y-our Ladyship,' the drone says, sighing sweetly. 'I...don't think there's enough to go around?'

As the last of the paired Peters disappears into the woodlands, all that's left is myself and the quivering fellow between the two rowdy royals. I'm passingly aware that one of us is going to be on the receiving end of two Amazonian insecquine futanaris, but it's going to end up in my hands, isn't it? I don't have to go with the princesses, after all. I mean, I'll remember what happens after the fact, but...

...I really was hoping to play with Alannah's male parts, wasn't I?

'You, me, go with the drone,' I say, stepping forwards, pointing. 'Princesses? I'll take care of you both. At the same time.'

The thriae blushes, but the vespid glares. 'I refuse to--'

'You can't refuse, because I'm doing you a favour.' I walk up to her and snatch away the sole quaking Peter, pushing him towards the drone, who happily embraces him, and he her. Immediately it becomes impossible to ignore the height and strength of these two insectoid monster-girls, even the plusher one seeming particularly potent. A lump forms in my throat, which I struggle to swallow. Which will, I imagine, as I glance down their bodies and find their sizeable insectoid-equine members making bulges in their clothes, soon be dislodged by a very large inhuman penis or two. 'I'll do what you want, so let's just go, okay? I'll do everything that you want, within reason.'

Phaltara smiles warmly, and Mylessa grins viciously. They both take hold of a shoulder, the force of their grips speaking volumes as to their appetites. Though, funnily enough, I think I might be stronger than either of them?

'Peter,' Alannah says, calling to me. I turn to find her concerned, motherly and mystical in her effortless allure. 'Are you sure? The mirror--'

'I need to get used to this world,' I say, dipping my head in respect. 'This...this is going to be fine. Don't worry about me.'

In fact, as I put a hand on the hips of each of the girls, provoking a shiver through each of them, I'm starting to think this won't be fine. No, not fine at all. Fantastic, amazing, superb, but not merely fine. And as their silvery wings begin to beat, as the floor beneath me disappears in favour of the freedom of the air, I start to grin. Start to grin, and of course, to pop a boner.

*

We don't fly for long, the pair of them tugging at me to go in either direction but ultimately deciding on some spot far from the clearing, where a glistening pool dominates a hollow of its own, ringed by impenetrable trees.

'You're either very brave, or very foolish,' Mylessa says, releasing me. 'Though knowing Phaltara, she'll probably have more of a desire to act the girl than take what's rightfully being offered her.'

'As if you don't like being mounted, Mylessa,' Phaltara says, rolling her sapphire blue eyes. 'We might as well enjoy his body to the fullest, right? Sate all of our appetites?'

The pair don't immediately act, instead pulling away from me to study my form at a distance. Their smell, combined, lingers in my nostrils. God, I kind of want them in my mouth already. I don't think anybody has smelt so good, except for maybe Alannah? But even then, it's a close competition. The princesses smell like some magical merging of honey and sugar, fresh flowers and pure cleanliness, paired with the most vulgar and virile odour of mind-shattering sexiness. Like they embody, in a raw and terrible sense, sexuality itself.

I look towards the thriae princess, Phaltara, first. She's in some sense easier on the eyes, though I don't think she's the more attractive of the pair, at least facially. Sweeter, yes. More traditionally beautiful. Softer features, a heart-shaped face, rounder at the cheeks and the chin and the nose. Her hair is a mane of spun gold that flows down past her shoulders, between her quartet of silvery insectoid wings that fold against her back, loose and straight but centred on a neat plaited braid. That her hips are so wide, that her breasts -- four of them, one row above the other, I see on closer inspection -- are so big, with such lovely long legs and a prodigiously fat pair of buttocks beneath that protruding abdominal tail-stinger, boggles the mind. What a ridiculous body, and she drapes it in a dress of white silk with a rigid style of silver chestplate -- which initially fooled me into thinking her tits are the larger between the two noblewomen. At least by mass alone, rather than as individual breasts, they may yet be! Still, it feels as though such a plate is more fitting for her crotch, given that her flowing silk has done nothing to hide the fact that she's been erect this entire flight.

Mylessa, by contrast, is distinctly sexier. Sharper features, a crueller yet more elegant expression with a faintly appealing gauntness to it. Not that I wouldn't have sex with either of them, of course, but she's more my type, maybe? Blood-red rubies for eyes, with that same shade of golden hair but shoulder-length, a luscious lock of it at any given time hiding the left half of her face. Her body is clad in armour, all plate metal that reminds me of Greek battle gear from the ancient past, with one of those skirts made up of tassels. Tassels that are very much disrupted by the presence of a particularly large cock, bigger even than Phaltara's. Mylessa seems to have narrower hips -- though even so, they're broader than my shoulders by far, and wonderfully womanly -- and a more muscular toned backside, but her breasts are larger, on an individual basis. Only two, as seems to be the way of things with hornets. I guess the "honey" of the bees might come from something different in this world.

'I said I'll do anything, and I mean it, but I can't promise I'll be all that good at certain things where technique matters.' There's no reason to delay things, so I pull off my shirt and throw it aside. 'Just no stinging me, please. I mean, with things that aren't your cocks. No actual stingers. I might add "no venom," as well, but then this seems to be rapidly descending into a boat-load of double entendres...'

As I reach for the buckle of my belt, to release my newly enhanced "beast," the princesses seem to subtly reverse roles. Mylessa, all cocky and feisty, turns as red as a strawberry, actually averting her eyes from the possibility of my exposed manhood. Whereas Phaltara is licking her lips, and groping at the sizeable shape which has left quite the damp patch at the front of her white silken dress.

'What's the matter with you two? We can't exactly do this from a distance.'

'I've never been with a man,' Mylessa says, shying away from me. 'It's one thing to mount a drone or guardian, but you're a male. And you're a human.'

'Is that a problem?' I say.

The vespid princess frowns, looking particularly cute in the process. 'Not exactly, b-ut--'

'Lessa's got herself a thing for humans,' Phaltara says, grinning gorgeously. She reaches around the back of her chest, quickly loosening the breastplate which, as it begins to shift, confirms my four-titty suspicions. 'She probably wants your babies.'

'Tara, I will sting you!'

But whatever insults the pair trade, voices raised and tensions high with horniness, the world somewhat fades out of earshot. The moment Tara's chestplate hits the grassy floor, I find myself wide-eyed and staring. God, they jiggle. Bounce. Wobble. Four breasts, each the size of my head, each the golden shade of her lustrous flesh with a pretty black halo surrounding the nipple, puffy and silky-smooth. Each nipple in turn faintly glistening, as if potentially having leaked, or being quite able to do so.

'Do you want some honey?' the bee says, scooping up her lower pair and in the process forcing up the upper set. A bundle of nerves clogs my throat, and I just about manage to gulp it down. 'Well, human? It's Peter, isn't it?'

'Sorry, I didn't mean to stare.'

Lessa grinds her teeth. 'We're about to fuck, idiot. Stare all you damn-well like.'

Her moodiness has an appeal to it, though it's at odds with her behaviour. When I turn from the bee to the hornet, finding her wonderful womanly shape half-undressed, Princess Mylessa goes to the effort of covering her two -- even bigger, at least individually -- beautiful boobs with a hand across them, and another pushing down a massive glossy erection. The vespid, with my eyes upon her, frantically beats her elegant insectoid wings for a moment, creating a buzzing warning sound. Nerves, on both sides.

Well, not on Tara's, given the way she casts everything aside without reservation.

'I can't speak for my lovely sister-in-title, Peter, but I know what I want.'

Princess Phaltara steps out of her white silk dress, bare and bodacious. Exposed to the elements, her exquisite body is erotic to the extreme, a feast for the eyes and doubtless the other senses as well, if her smell is anything to go by.

The thriae princess is a little chubby, and I love it. Her golden black-striped flesh continues across the entirety of her shape, though her midsection has an oval of solid gold without any black across it, running from the lowest point of her belly up to her collarbone. Her hips are wide and fat, forming cute rolls at the tops of their arches and where her slightly overhanging belly jiggles against them. Those same wonderful arches -- inspiring a sense of motherliness, despite the fact that she can't be much older than me -- set the standard for the thickness of her thighs and calves.

But the thing which protrudes from between her legs is at odds with the rest of her. That word again comes to mind: insecquine. I mean, I'd heard of the fact that some demons have equid-style cocks, just like minotaurs do. And some of those rabbit and hare people, lacquines I think they call them?

Yet here, I suppose it makes at least that much more sense given that while the girls are distinctly insectoid, they're clearly closer to mammals than Earth honey bees and hornets.

'You said you'll do anything, right?' the thriae princess says, slowly approaching. 'Anything we ask of you?'

I nod, cheeks hot as sin. 'Yes. That's what I said.'

For just a moment she seems intimidating, a touch too voracious. When the beautiful bee-girl sighs, her smile shifting from rapacious to slutty, my nerves ease up. 'Mother doesn't let me suck the guardian's cocks, because apparently I'm noble and they're not, but...Mother's not here.'

Her horny hungriness makes a resurgence, but in a form I'm dramatically more comfortable with. The heavy-bodied bee-beauty takes me by the hand and leads me towards a stump by the side of a pool, all the while the hornet-girl watches nervously, still shielding as much of her body as she can manage.

Each woman is captivating in their own way, for Lessa's shape lacks the chubbiness while retaining abundant femininity, adding plenty of well-defined muscles into the mix. As Tara sits me down atop the stump I find myself marvelling at the pseudo-chitinous aspects of the vespid, her forearms and lower legs clad in glistening metal-looking plate that doesn't seem to be removable.

'The hells are you staring at, human?' Princess Mylessa says, glaring.

'He'll suck your cock, Lessa. Calm down.' Tara rolls her eyes, dropping down onto her knees before me. To meet those sublime sapphires and marvel at her majesty, her sheer appeal, is to passingly lose myself. 'Isn't that right, Peter? You're here to take good care of us.'

I nod, and wet my lips. I suppose it was going to happen at some point, right? 'Yes. Yeah. That's why I'm here.'

'Are you serious?' Lessa's shyness seems to melt away, at least enough for her to remove her arms from her chest, in the process letting her enormous breasts sag sweetly and her big cock bounce up, in need of attention. 'You'll suck me off?'

'Why wouldn't I?'

'Mother says...mother says royal seed is sacred, and I can't spill it. And there's no point getting a blowjob if I can't cum, now is there?'

I find myself smirking, a little nervous, a lot excited. Wow, these girls are gorgeous. Lessa's breasts have these puffy liquorice-black halos around their plump nipples, all bumpy and alluring. If she had any excess fat on her she might seem more like Tara, but instead she's all sculpted muscle peeking through gold-and-black skin that has a distinctly more violent pattern to it compared to the bee's simple streaks. And her cock, by a few inches, is the larger of the two. Both of them, unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, have heavy scrotums with four balls each, however.

'Is that, um, your version of honey?' I say.

Both orincesses chuckle, break into genuine laughter, as if I've just told some fabulous rib-tickler. Lessa keeps going for a while, sounding on the verge of cruelness, but Tara notices my lack of understanding and softens her giggling into a mere salacious smirk.

'Vespids don't make honey, silly,' she says, giving my leg a stroke. 'They're just pollinators. And even in thriae, the honey comes from our breasts, not our balls.'

'It's just sperm, isn't it?'

'Does that disappoint you?'

I shrug. 'I don't know? Is it tasty?'

Tara shakes her head, and giggles. 'I couldn't say. Mother doesn't let me taste hers, or anyone else's. I'm in the same boat as Lessa.'

'We're nothing alike,' the vespid says, appearing in my periphery. To my great surprise, the towering hornet-girl drops down beside the horny honey bee. Only she's a bit rougher in spreading my legs. 'I'm not doing this because of you, okay? I'm just interested as well. And I hardly want this chubby cunt to show me up.'

Tara rolls her eyes. 'See what I have to put up with? The oldest princesses of our peoples, each of us destined to become Queens in our own right, and I'm stuck with her.'

Lessa gives the thriae a shove, though it doesn't seem hugely forceful. 'Just shut up, and get his cock out, Tara. Let's see what pathetic human maggot we're working with.'

I do the honours for them, pulling open my trousers and freeing my newly improved would-be impregnator. And, realistically, I'm not quite as big as either of the insect girls. Tara must be at least sixteen inches, and Lessa perhaps twenty, but my foot-long length nonetheless widens eyes and provokes low lusty gasps.

'Woah,' Tara says. 'And look at those big balls!'

'No way is he packing that.' Lessa shakes her head, but a sliver of black tongue nonetheless goes for her lips. 'It's...it must be fake. He did something. He--'

'Alannah of the Ancient Grove fed me her milk,' I say, struggling not to smirk. Both of them meet my gaze, one pair of rubies, one of sapphires. Clearly, such an admission carries a certain amount of weight to it. 'What are those faces for?'

Lessa sinks a hand into my thigh, the chitinous plating proving dangerously sharp. Honestly, if not for Lana's blessing, she might well cut the skin without effort. 'If you don't tell a soul...I'll let you cum in my mouth.'