Siren Song

Part 5 — The Final Night

by

Paul Gerard

(a pen name)

First Draft started 2008-06-17

This version 2012-09-06

Proof-reading: A very heartfelt

thank you

to CoffeePilot for his time and patience.

The numbering, I suck at it. Yes, I remember that this is technically supposed to be Part 4.2, because the previous part was called 4.1, and they once were just one item called "part 4".

I'm not quite sure why I thought that 4.1/4.2 thing would be a good idea. Anyway, enjoy the tale, no matter how it's labelled.

--

Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

Once upon a time ...

The year is 1185, the world is Altaerna, and the place is somewhere in the temperate climate where people are mostly pale and mostly stubborn.

A winter ago, a lithe and lissom young woman saved a handsome young fisherman from drowning. The fisherman's would-be fiance, headstrong cold-hearted not-so-young Menena, the town's mayor and wealthy shop owner, didn't take it lightly when her trusted maid Barbara and her well-equipped secret boy toy David fell for each other hard and fast despite being unable to join in carnal pleasures (on account of Barbara's nethers being a thimble and David being ... rather more than that).

Consumed by jealousy, Menena saw to it that David was banned from the town, with Menena maligning him whenever she could. Barbara was given the boot but still found a little lenience in Menena's eyes for the years of service, so the lithe blonde was allowed to spend market days in the side streets where she's now trying to sell for a living the fishes that David catches with his tiny boat and his worn nets. The outcast couple of twenty-somethings got secretly married and made it through their first year, living a life of privation in a tiny hut atop the cliffs, hours from the town.

~

Part 1:

Spring has returned. Going for a swim while waiting for her husband's return, Barbara hits upon a drifting net chock-full of fish while her other half David makes but a single lucky catch out at sea. Reunited, the young couple retreats into their favorite hideaway to have another go at their most pressing problem, their inability to consume their marriage properly. Still unable to succeed, they resort to each other's dexterity like the many times before.

As Barbara prepares lunch gutting the fish David brought, she discovers a valuable pendant in its belly. Putting it on, she — is woken by her husband, hours later. Not only has she developed quite the appetite for the unfamiliar fishes that the new net seems to attract, she also suddenly succeeds in devouring herculean

meat

(wink, wink). When David sets out to a bigger and more distant town in an effort to sell more of his catches, Barbara ends up doing a little self-exploration on a moonlit night. She

also

ends up with quite some more

Barbara

before the night is through. After a day spent in fear and despair, and lucky for her self-conscious mind, a) most of it has disappeared again by the time Dave returns, and b) David doesn't mind the surplus left on her at all.

As the next market day comes around, Barbara squeezes into her now ill-fitting old clothes and is about to go on a quest for answers about what has befallen her, and her first stop will be the town's healer and midwife. Alas, the market isn't over yet ...

~

Part 2:

Following Barbara's erroneously assuring visit to the town's midwife, Barbara and David indulge in Barbara's new voluptuousness and carnal hunger. As her ever-increasing desires begin to overwhelm David's abilities, he searches for a second opinion on the strange pendant and gets advice from a young, traveling, bad-tempered, dark-skinned dancing girl called Yrba who also happens to be witch. Meanwhile, back home alone, another outbreak of multiple expansion hits Barbara as her strange visions once again cross over into her reality. When she wakes the next morning, more than just her most eye-catching attributes have changed ...

~

Part 3:

After David relays his tale of the meeting with the witch, Barbara allows him to hide away the pendant. Barbara's worries about her husband's response to her increased voluptuousness prove to be unfounded. As they celebrate their reunion after the days of separation, some of the power fueling Barbara's transformation is passed on to her husband, enlarging his one already oversized attribute even further while shielding their minds from becoming suspicious.

With David away on his next trip to the city, Barbara attempts to better her standing with her former mistress — and it backfires in ways that the poor young woman never would've expected. Weak, drained and more chest-heavy than ever, she staggers home ...

~

Part 4 (aka 4.1):

Much to her horror, Barbara's body draws its own conclusion after her mammaries have been relieved of a bucketful of milk at her former mistress' hands, and it decides that a pair of massively swollen breasts capable of lactation by the gallon is the way to go. As Menena arrives the next morning, Barbara is helplessly chained to the kitchen table by her two humungous orbs brimming with milk. Menena discovers the enchanted pendant and decides on a whim that her favorite milk source isn't big enough yet. She ties up Barbara and leaves the helpless young woman exposed to an even bigger dose of the trinket's otherworldly powers.

David returns the next morning only to run into Menena. Tempers fly as the bossy woman realizes that her former boy toy will stay true to his wife no matter what ...

~

Part 5: The Final Night

Obscure inspirational music reference:

"Never saw anybody think she's so right and be so wrong" —

Daryl Hall,

Dreamtime

~

Chapter 17: Dashed Hopes

~

The twitter of morning birds outside the poor hut returned, filling the desolate silence inside after Menena's haughty departure. Barbara covered her face with her hands and sobbed quietly. Her shaking shoulders sent ripples across the white promontory of her gargantuan, immobilizing, magic-infested mammaries. David leaned with his back against the wall, fists clenched in desperate rage. He slowly slid down, groaning in anger and banging the back of his head against the wood and loam again and again.

~

Barbara propped herself up on the yard-long, stuffed pillows of her breasts. She moaned faintly as her elbows dug into the flesh and sent a wave of arousal through the sensitive mass.

"Oh the gods, David, what are we going to do? She'll turn us both into her slaves! She'll lock me up and make me into a

bed

, and she'll chain you to it and turn you into her stallion, and you'll have to breed her on top of me every night! She's become sick in the head like that!"

He jumped to his feet. "Barbara, we'll use the boat! We'll —"

Barbara spread her arms, her gesture encompassing the breathtaking cause of their predicament. "David! Think about it. I'm heavy like, what, maybe three or four people now. We'd capsize before we're across the reef. I'd sink like a stone, and I'd drag you down as well."

He sagged down to his haunches, hanging his head.

"There must be some way to escape! Some way to undo all this, some spell —"

David hesitated, then turned to his wife. "Listen, dear, I'll — I'll try to find that witch again, maybe if I beg her nicely, she'll be willing to — to take another look or something, because if this isn't magic or a curse or a hex, then what is? And once she's freed you from it, we'll go somewhere far away where Menena can't find us. She can have the pendant for all I care."

Fear carved trenches into Barbara's forehead.

"You can't leave me alone, not like this, David!" she gasped. "It took you two days just to get there, the last time! We don't have that time, and if you're not around tomorrow morning, I — I dare not think what she'll do to me! The gods, she'll milk me to the last drop and then I'll grow even more! I'll swell the house apart! And she'll be watching and cackling as I flatten our home with my — my —" She ran her flat hands across her thin-stretched, sweat and seed covered skin. Tears itched in the corners of her eyes.

"I won't leave you, Barbara," David replied, gently closing his big hand around her slender fingers. "We'll run from her together. Roughwater village and the witch's wood is not that far away. We'll pad out the cart all nice and cozy, make a nest for your chest, and before you know it, this madness will be over."

"The cart!" Barbara slapped her hands on her mouth. "Oh my goodness, I hid it in the grove just outside the village! You mustn't go near there!"

"Don't you worry, dear. I'll pick it up and they'll never even see me doing it."

Barbara's breath came faster and deeper as she pondered her husband's words. She finally raised her head as she felt the rekindling flames of hope. Her mouth curved into a smile.

"Yes! David, this might just work!" Barbara stroked her breasts probingly. The flesh and skin was soft under her fingers, yielding to her fingertips' pressure with tingles of delight instead of stings of overfilling. "I'm good for at least a few hours before I must be milked again, I reckon. Still, you better hurry!"

He jumped to his feet and opened the door into the bedroom. Barbara craned her neck and watched with an incredulous expression.

"David! What are you up to? The cart's not in there."

His shadow rummaged about the other room, straightening the wrinkled coarse blankets on the bed before spreading a new linen blanket on top of it. He fluffed the pillows.

"David," she groaned through gnashed teeth, "I'm quite sated with sex for the moment, and you should be, too! Why are you making the bed, we don't have time for this. The sooner we're off with the cart, the more of a head start we'll have!"

He appeared in the door frame and smiled. "There's always enough time to make you comfortable, my love."

"Wha—?" she gasped as he knelt down in front of her and gently wiggled forward into her cleavage with his knees. David wrapped one arm around each of Barbara's humongous mammaries, digging his fingers under the pliable yard-sacks of warm flesh and glands. His fingertips pulled softly and cradled more of Barbara's silky volume into his hold.

"On the count of three, let's stand up. Put your hands on my shoulders, I'll carry your breasts."

"Dave, that's just stupid! Just leave me right here, it's not like those few yards are going to make a difference! Go, bring the cart, I'll be okay. We really need to have a head start on Menena! She'll be fuming if she comes by tomorrow and we're gone! What if you wrench your back now?!"

"No!" he yelled, and Barbara jerked. "No, Barbara," he continued, his voice growing soft again. "Barbara, you're my wife. I won't leave you on the ground like a freak animal. For better or worse, in sickness and health, you're my wife, my love. We shared the bed during the good times, and I won't have you crawling on the floor in the bad times. So, one, two —"

"Three—

ennnghhh!

" moaned Barbara as her mammaries' skin strained along the top of her twin peaks. Her breasts bent under their own weight, trapping David's hands and arms in the deep folds. Together, the couple staggered towards the bed, step by dragging step.

"

Ohthegods — ohthegods — ohthegods!

" groaned David. He knew the weight of his wife well, and he never before had been bothered by it. They'd spent quite a few times with him standing and Barbara clinging with her thighs to his hips, their bodies dowelled together by his sizable wood enveloped all the way inside her clutching and milking cave. What he carried now was twice that, twice the weight of Barbara's divine body, stuffed into a slippery, malleable, yard-long breast under

each

of his arms.

The front of the bed ran against the back of Barbara's knees. She stumbled backwards and dragged David along. They crashed down on the straw mattress together.

~

"Uh — David?" she inquired after things finally settled down. Barbara's splayed arms lay trapped under the massive weight of her flattened breasts. Her husband's loins rested on top of her own luckily both well-padded and well-muscled midriff, and he struggled to free himself from the warm chasm of her cleavage.

"

Ugh

," he replied, finally wiggling out on his hands and knees. "Sorry, that was a bit rough." His hand caressed the plate-sized dome of Barbara's left areola. "Are you all right?"

"The gods, for a moment there I thought you'd squeeze them to pieces, dear," she moaned. "Just help me get my arms out from under — well, from under

me

, and I'll be quite comfortable while you," she gnashed her teeth, "

please

finally get that

damned

cart back here!"

~

"There now," groaned David, cradling Barbara's left breast and pulling it over his wife's midriff. The weighty orb bearing down on her ribcage took her breath away, but her left arm finally came free. David let the milky breast slowly down again, and it settled on the bed by Barbara's left flank. He quickly moved over and leaned into the malleable right sphere that softly engulfed his pushing shoulders until it rolled aside just far enough to give Barbara's other arm the chance to escape from the warm grave beneath her boob avalanche.

"Heavens, finally! Still, David, I tell you, I

was

able to carry them as long as I wore the pen

fmlll

—"

Determinedly but gently he placed his forefinger on her lips and shut her up. "No, Barbara. You

grew

them as long as you wore the pendant, so let's not go there again."

Barbara sighed. She managed to push herself up on her elbows, her body now framed and obscured by the pair of her bulging bags that reached beyond her hips and rose almost two feet high. Pliable as they were, the stretching skin spanning across her breastbone left her not much wiggle room before the first stings of pain warned her that she was in danger of coming apart.

"

Ouch!

Oh my, it feels like I'm not going anywhere, David. If we want to run away far enough before Menena returns, you really need to get the cart. Even then I'm not sure I could bear its bumping and jolting for days."

"I'll be back before it's noon, dear," he whispered and pecked a kiss on her cheek. "Will you let me take sip though, I'm parched."

Barbara smiled and nodded. Her husband's face lit up as it disappeared behind the boulders of her flesh and glands. His hands stroked across the expanse of her right breast's skin and closed in on her dark areola. He cupped the puffy patch and lightly squeezed the nubby dome. David's warm breath touched her nipple. Moments later, his pouted lips brushed against the tip. His tongue peeked out and rimmed the rough surface before he opened his mouth further. Barbara's heightened senses fed the slowly stretching and sliding touch of his lips straight into her kindling lust. She twitched with every fraction of an inch that David sucked deeper between his lips, and her unfilled sheath contracted greedily from her groin up beneath her ribs, slobbering its juices between her legs and begging to be stuffed.

"The — gods!" panted Barbara, squeezing the words out through her teeth clenching in her outburst of lust. "G—giving — boiling —

guuuhhh—!

" Her teat hardened under her husband's deft tongue, and the hole in the tip widened expectantly. At the root of the swollen cylinder, the puckered valve opened up. Muscles throbbed deep inside her breast, contracting around her glands and ducts and forcing a big mouthful of warm milk as food for the journey down David's throat.

David gulped down the rich serving and let the hot teat out of his mouth. He rose from his haunches to his knees and brought his hands beneath the humungous orb in a long semi-circular stroke. His fingers dug lightly into the soft underboob, then he raised the front of the elongated bag to his face and kissed the generous teat again. "Oh, I can truly understand Menena," he gushed. "You're so delicious! Beyond delicious! I swear I never tasted anything better! Now my feet will be

flying

to get back to you, Barbara!"

~

David's jogging steps faded in the distance. Trapped in the loneliness of the bedroom and chained to the bed by the sources of her husband's delight, Barbara flexed her shoulders, grabbed the headboard of her bed and pulled herself up as far as her two flesh anchors allowed.

How will this end?

she pondered, staring at the ceiling. Her breasts' tender envelope against her curves was like a warm and soft embrace, and soon her eyelids sagged. Each time she noticed she jerked and forced them open again.

Gah —! Mustn't fall asleep!

Yet the harder she strained her eyelids open, the more a veil of darkness crept in from the edge of her vision.

Musn't — fall — asssssl—

~

She wasn't asleep, she was sure of it. Instead, she was aware of her body far beyond being awake. Her skin told her of every tiny piece of hay that poked through the makeshift mattress against the cloth under her back, of every wrinkle of the blanket under her breasts. Her breathing shifted the air, and she sensed its eddies creeping along her sweaty skin. Above, the outlines of the wooden roof beams and the underside of the thatch were just barely visible in the shadows.

Barbara tried to move her arms, but nothing happened. The darkness from the corners of her eyes closed in further. She stared through these two shrinking windows in the middle of her eyesight that struggled against the inky void; she felt how she sank deeper into a bottomless well; how she descended away from her eyes, from her head, her body. Slowly, she sagged into the new center of herself, into her breasts; all the skin she felt was of those two orbs; all that she

was

were those two orbs.

The sights and sounds and smells of the outside world disappeared and left only

touch

, only the feeling of weight, of the slight tension of skin encompassing a gargantuan volume, of a soft nest of cloth and straw cradling her round shapes, and it was good.

She smiled as she sensed the result of her glands' slow but steady work all through herself. She swelled relaxedly now, stretching bigger and higher at her own natural pace, slowly stockpiling fresh warm milk that appeared inside her drop by drop out of thin air. Barbara's ethereal smile didn't reach her face, because her face was part of a body that no longer mattered to her. Muscles twitched but not in her cheeks; they twitched around her beautiful, engorged nipples and made her areola crinkle and dome even more. Her arms, legs, hands were no longer of any importance. She was round and proudly swollen with milk; the ridiculously scrawny arms and legs were but useless appendages to her glorious mammarian self. Yet she knew that she was not nearly done. She was

tiny

compared to what she knew she could become. Barbara licked her lips, only it wasn't her tongue that moistened those clumsy, fleshy things in her face, but tiny extra ducts in her nipples around the main vent that opened now and let out a trickle of milk. The thin whitish coating soaked into the rough, dark skin of the areola. A little surplus ran down the curve of her breasts, and Barbara nearly passed out from the long-drawn sensation of something tracing the massive bulge.