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Looking for a fantasy story
Judicarx Offline
Junior Member

Posts: 3
Joined: Oct 2013
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Post: #1
Looking for a fantasy story
I remember reading a story, way back when, set in a fantasy universe. The protagoist was an adventurer of some sort (a paladin? A cleric? Something like that) who was enchanted into becoming one of a number of continually pregnant queens in this city - I believe they were cat-men, but I don't remember.

I seem to recall reading this story on Deviantart, but I can't find it, and I don't remember the title, so I'm finding it difficult to search for it.

Would any of you happen to know the story I'm thinking of?
May 26, 2018 3:53 am
Liked by preggolovah (May 26, 2018)
JBowman_uk Offline
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Posts: 25
Joined: Sep 2013
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Post: #2
RE: Looking for a fantasy story
It was called "Ascension" - but I don't know who it was by. I saved it, waaaaay back:

*edit* and apparently the attachments don't work. So:

Chapter 1:

Sarah trod along the worn dust path with a respectful smile on her face. She had plenty to smile about too, a young girl of sixteen she had just about everything she wanted. Her ivory figure was sleek and slim like an immaculate statue. Her brown hair spilled over she shoulders and bobbed up and down as she walked. Her sharp face was much like her body, fine and slim, a curt small pair of lips, a thin though pointed nose and two deep green eyes guarded by thin brows barely over a millimetre in width.

However, her perfect figure hadn't been unearned. Every night she toiled to make sure she remained 'perfect'. When on the move it was hard to find a place to wash, but she would make a point of doing so every other night, imbuing her skin with soft fluids to cleanse and purify. Her hair, though perfectly brunette now, was red by nature and she had to use a special dye to keep it so. She thought her flaming locks had been too much for her, making her look dirty somehow. Her brown hair may to some look dour, but this was vastly preferable than looking 'easy'.

Washing was only the start of her labours though, and every night, regardless of washing, she would set aside an hour to take care of the displeasing hair which she had to remove. For this purpose she had a treasured trinket sold to her by a mage, nearly a year ago. It was quite amazing, a small golden rod, no thicker than a pencil, and about half as long. When held a small shimmering globe of white and pink light appeared over one end. Initially she had been attracted by the lights sheer beauty, but finding its use she was even more enthralled. When touched to the skin it induced a light tingling sensation and left no mark, but did shear any hair straight off. One could thrust it into the chest of a bear and it would feel little, but be left with a prominent bald spot. She used it to keep her armpits and legs sleek and clean, not to mention her private regions.

She had seen other methods of removing such hair, but didn't place much trust in them. A friend had once tried drinking a potion that swore to remove such hair, and it had done just that- but also cost her all the hair on her head, and the poor girl had to endure being bald for some time. A peddler once showed them a method whereby a paste is applied with bandages, then ripped off. However, the demonstration went awry when the bandages removed not only the hair, but a layer of the subjects skin, too.

Her care had often been called obsessive, as most protested once a week would be enough to keep her beautiful, but Sarah was still compelled to cleanse herself more often. After even a few days without the process she would start to feel dirty, and she could swear her legs itched and chaffed against each other.

The maintenance of her teeth was also something she took pride in, and another for which she enlisted the aid of outlandish tools. The Toothbrush was, of course, commonplace, as was toothpaste, but she had procured (from another traveling salesman) a special potion for rinsing out her mouth that helped to keep her teeth pearly white.

Last but not least of her labours was exercise. She had no interest in becoming a muscle bound beast (as she had seen some women do), but wanted to make sure she never became fat or weak. And so she would do a few situps, pressups and squat-thrusts to keep herself ticking over. This kept the slender muscles in her legs strong, and her abdomen remained perpetually undefined, with only the merest whisper of 'washboard abs'.

But of course, Sarah's beauty was not her only joy in life. With two loyal friends at her side things could hardly get better. To her right was Vladimir and to his right Rose. They were holding hands, which was to be expected, they had been a couple for several years now.

Vladimir was the tallest of the trio, but almost as slim as Sarah. He was wiry and lean, a befitting shape for an Archer. His long bow hewn of deer antlers was slung over his back, under it a quiver of silver arrows. He wore a stereotypical 'robin hood' outfit, green tights and shirt accompanied by brown leather boots a few sizes too large for his feet which gave off hollow clunks as he walked.

Rose, the shortest, was clad in heavy chain mail and white plate armour, a stout sword hanging on her belt, her gauntlet clenching Vladimir's bare hand. She was a knight, or rather a paladin in training. This trip was to be the culmination of her training. When they reached their destination, the monastery, she would receive her holy ordinance and become a fully fledged Paladin- just as Sarah would become a Cleric.

Many commented on the odd couple- saying it was unusual that the man should be an archer while the woman was a paladin. Several years ago both had interests in becoming fighters of some sort, and originally Vladimir proposed that he become a Knight and she an Archer. However, upon the revelation that most female archers had one breast burned off to enable them to fire a bow they both decided it would be best to swap roles.

Occasionally Sarah would become angry or jealous of the pretty young lovers, having remained devoutly chaste herself (not that Vladimir and Rose had gone very far to her knowledge- but Sarah refrained from romantic involvement completely to avoid the possibility) and other times become infuriated by how she was left out of the group. However, her gripes were always silent, as she was intent on appearing tolerant.

“How far is it?” Rose yawned. She brushed a strand of blond hair out of her eyes, “I'm boiling inside this armour.”
“It's a few days walking yet before we get to the monastery.” Sarah explained, “But I believe there's a town about an hour ahead. We could stop at an Inn.”
“That sounds good to me...” Vladimir nodded. His money pouch, tied to his belt, was heavy with gold he had won on their journey- by making bets on his archery skills.
“Yeah, I reeeaally don't want to set up camp...” Rose yawned again.

Sarah sighed in relief. She had been hoping they would say this. They usually slept in Inns, but on occasion when they were some way away from society they would rough it, and it was not a pleasurable experience. As the only member of the party who didn't carry a weapon she was lumped with carrying most of the camping gear in a backpack. The less that pack needed to be opened the better, as far as she was concerned.

“What's the town's name?” Vladimir asked, out of curiousity.
“Don't you ever check the map?” Sarah said, jokingly, “It's called Green Haven.”
“Well, they've got the green part down...” Rose said, nodding to the lush green pines that formed a corridor around their path.
“It was founded by Cat Men from Rah Kamen a while ago. It's just on the edge of the forest bordering the dessert where they live, so coming from there it really was a Green Haven.” Sarah explained.
“Cat men?” Vladimir asked cautiously, “Are there many there now?”
“Don't worry dear.” Rose giggled, “I'll protect you.”
“After the wars a lot of humans moved in. It's mostly human now, but there are a few, still.” Sarah answered.
“You study too much.” Rose laughed, causing Sarah to blush in response.

Sarah was by far the most knowledgeable of the trio. While the other's chosen profession required hours of daily practice, trying to improve their aim or increase their muscle, training to be a Cleric most of Sarah's day was spent reading- something she excelled at. She was allotted a few pages of clerical reading a day, which she could finish in fifteen minutes, leaving her with hours to browse the town's library before having to practice her spells.

“You think there'll be any available rooms?” Vladimir asked, an audible note of worry in his voice. On one or two trips on his own he had the misfortune to travel through towns in the middle of festivals, at which time the inns would be fully booked.
“Eh?” Sarah said in confusion, “Of course.”
“There aren't any like, Cat Man festivals around this time of year, are there?” Vladimir asked, still un-convinced.
Despite her wealth of knowledge Cat Men were not really Sarah's area of expertise. She rubbed her chin for a few minutes, thinking. “I don't... Oh, wait, I think they had some sort of royal festival- bringing in the new king or something- a few days ago.”
Vladimir was now beginning to sweat, “So there might be a lot of Cat Men in the town, heading out from err...”
“Rah Kamen.” Rose reminded him.
“Hmm, possibly.” Sarah shrugged.
“I hope there's more than one inn...” Vladimir gulped.


As it turned out, Green Haven was home to a vast multitude of inns. From the entrance to the town square alone they passed four. They could have traipsed across the entire town to sample all of them, but the sun was already sinking bellow the horizon and they were tired, so they settled for the fourth they had seen, just bordering the town square.

Upon entering they discovered it to be (as most inns were) a pub as well, and not only that, it was a pub saturated with Cat Men. After hastily handing over the gold Vladimir made his way up stairs to his room, followed by Rose, who was eagre to remove her weighty armour. Sarah trudged up last, ready to deposit her pack on her room's floor and then begin with her 'labours of beauty'. However, when she reached her door she found a young cat man standing in front of it, struggling with a key. For a few moments she stood silently, unsure what to do.

“Err, can I help you?” The cat man (or rather cat boy. Sarah guessed he was in the age range of 16-18, although the fur made it hard to tell.) asked.
“Umm, I think that's my room...” Sarah blushed.
“What? Push off, the inn keeper said I was in room five and...” the cat man grumbled.
Sarah glanced at the number on the door and the number written on the lump of wood attached to her key. The door read '7' and her key, 'seven'.
“But that's room Seven.” Sarah pointed out.
“What?” the cat removed his ill-fitting key from the lock. He held up the chunk of wood and looked at it. Sarah saw it too, it did indeed read 'five'. “That's not five?” he indicated to the number on the door.
“No, that's a seven...” Sarah said. The cat had stood back now, and she took the opportunity to demonstrate, placing her key in the lock and turning it. The door swung open.
“Oh... Sorry...” the cat scratched his head, “I'm not very good with human numbers.”
“It's okay.” Sarah said in a begrudging voice that didn't really agree with her statement.
“No, please, I was rude, let me make it up to you.” the cat offered.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“I can buy you a drink.” he gestured to the stairs, leading to the pub bellow.
“I don't drink.” Sarah replied and made for the room.
“They sell excellent juice here though- and other drinks that are, err... Ethenol free.” he struggled with his words.
“You mean Alcohol free?” Sarah asked.
“That's it!” the cat nodded.
“Well...” she rubbed her stomach, feeling the six faint bumps of her abdomen, “Okay. Just let me dump my pack first.”
“Cool.” the cat nodded, standing back, “Oh, by the way, my name's Cyra.”
“Sarah.” Sarah nodded, sliding the pack off her shoulders and dumping it by the bed.

She left the room and locked the door, slipping the key into her pocket. She took another look at this 'Cyra', still unsure whether she should condone to having a drink with him. He was almost exactly the same height as her, built lean, but not quite as wiry as Vladimir. He wore an ill-fitting white vest and green shorts. His legs were covered with thick golden for speckled with black leopard spots. He wore no shoes but hand large paws for feet, with toes shooting out, seemingly in every direction, a large hooked claw growing from each one. A tail stuck out suspiciously from one of his shorts' legs. She could see similar golden fur peeking out from under the vest, but from his shoulders down his arms were completely bald. They were thin and pale as bone, but they had an intricate beauty to them. His face was covered with a thin layer of golden fur, with dark brown tiger strikes radiating out from the centre. Whiskers shot out from his cheeks and the word 'cute' immediately sprang into Sarah's mind. His eyes were deep and green, like pools of melted emeralds.


Sometime later Sarah downed her third grape juice and hiccuped. She was having a surprisingly good time, and was now quite glad she hadn't been in room six or eight.

“So you've lived your entire life in that little village?” Cyra tilted his head as he posed the question, with a tone of disbelief.
“Well, I've gone to neighbouring villages, and some camping missions and things in the nearby area, but... this is the furthest I've ever been from home.” Sarah explained.
“Whoa...” Cyra sighed, leaning back, “I can't imagine what that'd be like, being stuck in one place. I'm always moving around.”
“Oh? Where are you going now?” Sarah asked, curiously.
“Hmm, don't know. A lot of cats were heading out this way after- well, recently. I dunno, this monastery sounds kinda cool...” he gave her a sly grin, “Or maybe this village you've told me so much about.”
“Hah. I don't think a person like you would like either of them.” Sarah retorted.
“How can you say that, you hardly know me?” he replied, jokingly.
“I know you well enough already... You'd find those places boring.” she dismissed him.
“Not if you were there.” he said, slyly, grinning at her.
Sarah took a gulp of her fourth juice and hiccuped again.
“I'm beginning to think these aren't totally alcohol free.” she giggled.
“I think you're right.” Cyra smiled. “Maybe you should switch over to the wine? Then you know it's not alcohol free.”
“Good Idea!” Sarah exclaimed, and promptly ordered a wine.

The conversation gradually devolved from there as Sarah became more and more tipsy. Cyra nursed a beaker of gin, taking meagre sips of it while his companion drank whole glasses at his expense. If she could have watched herself now from a sober point of view Sarah would be appalled at her behaviour, but that was impossible.

“Here, come up to my room, I've got something to show you.” Cyra said, standing up.
“Okay.” Sarah stood up, struggling to balance once she did so. She followed him upstairs, mumbling to herself, “I didn't think you'd been to your room yet...”

Once at the door (this time he found the real number five) he opened it and let her stumble in, following swiftly. She found his bed and sat on it, sighing with relief that she no longer needed to balance.

“What was it you wanted to show me?” she asked eagrely, as Cyra walked around the bed.
“You know, in Rah Kamen cat men don't have to wear clothes?” he said.
“Oh...” she said uncertainly. A smile crept across her lips without her noticing.
“I really hate wearing clothes when I leave...” he sighed. Walking back into her view she saw the cat was now fully naked, and although mostly covered by fur his manhood, fully erect and bald, rose clear of his fur. “Much better.” he purred.
Sarah simply stared for a minute before looking up at his face with an inviting grin. “This what you wanted to show me?”
“I wanted to show you a good time.” Cyra grinned back.
“Oh? Go on then- show me one.” she giggled.
“I intend to.”

Chapter 2:

Sarah awoke the next morning in her own bed, with a grin of absolute contentment spread across her face. For several minutes she lay with her eyes closed simply letting her feelings of pleasure linger within her. With a sigh she opened her eyes and looked around. She was confused as to why she was in her own bed- but then wondered why she would be in anyone else's. She gradually regained her memory of the evening prior, though, and remembered going to Cyra's room. She looked around her bed and found herself decisively alone. She frowned, unsure where her lover had gone, or even if the whole escapade had been real, but her memories- which increased in vividity with every passing second, reassured her that it was no dream.

She shrugged and sat up, deciding that she had probably crawled back into her own room in the middle of the night, deciding that it would be more comfortable to have her own bed rather than share with Cyra, who would doubtlessly shed through the night and she would awaken covered in the cat's hair. As she thought this she realised her crotch was unusually itchy, and scratched it instinctively. She was surprised to find a small mound of gold hair sprouting around her sex. She checked her armpits and found similar clumps. Realising that she hadn't had time to beautify herself she crawled out of bed and searched for her pack. She cursed herself for negating her duty, but also found it curious how much growth had occurred in just one day- and she had thought her hair dark and brown, not blond. She decided she must have lost track and was done with it, it hardly mattered, as shortly she would once more be completely free of this unsightly hair.

She shivered as she searched her pack, realising that it was rather cold now that she was naked outside the protective warmth of her quilt. Once she found the small golden rod she smiled joyfully and lept back into bed. Underneath the covers the rod's spectral light provided plenty illumination for her to complete her task- not that she really needed to see what she was doing- she knew well enough the contours of her own body and could repeat the task countless times in the dark.

However, toiling away to preserve her beauty she had time to think over the ramifications of her actions. On a purely physical level they weren't really great- she had lost her virginity, but that had no detrimental effects. On the spiritual level too, the downsides were negligible. Though her creed favoured chastity and virginity, crimes of passion were permissible, particularly if she could claim to be in love. She wondered if this was the case. Did she love Cyra? Did he love her? She would have to find him to discover the truth.

Shortly she emerged from the covers, her crotch and armpits completely bald. Prowling around the room which she had left relatively unexplored last night she discovered an adjoining bathroom, a luxury that she was extremely welcoming of. She quickly drew a bath and brushed her teeth before hopping in to soak. She had forgotten to do so yesterday- an almost unforgivable sin against her code of hygiene, if she wanted to pursue Cyra's affections she must be squeaky clean.

She emerged sometime later, and toweled herself off and dressed quickly in her blue robes. Popping her head out the window she guessed it was about ten in the morning- a late wake up for her, but still early for Vladimir and Rose. She still had time to get a few things done before they departed, and the first and most important, obviously, was Cyra.

However, when she came to his door and knocked, there was no reply. She knocked several times, each time the only response was a quiet echo. She was about to try and open the door when her stomach growled and she decided he might still be asleep, and now would be a good time to get some breakfast.

Heading downstairs she was overcome by the aroma of roasting meat. It filled her nostrils pleasurably, and she sucked in a few lungfuls for measure. She had intended only to have cereal or salad, but seeing bacon written in large letters on a black board across the room she couldn't resist. She reasoned that the night's exercise had been so strenuous that she needed the extra energy.

Sitting at a table near the bar she raised her hand to summon the waiter and yelled “Bacon and Eggs!” rather loudly. Thankfully the place was rather empty, and no one noticed other than the waiter. She looked about to see if Cyra was eating here, but sadly she saw no sign of him. She was quite content with her breakfast though, and eagrely diced the various fried foods before delicately consuming them in her usual ladylike fashion.

Once upstairs she gave another knock on Cyra's door, but still heard no reply. Sighing she wondered where her lover was and went to the door of her two companions. Knocking she heard the calls of the two inside clambering to reach the door and make ready. Opening a crack she could see Vladimir peering through from the other side.

“Ah, Sarah.” he smiled, opening it wide enough for her to glance inside.

He was half dressed in his light Archer's clothing, his shoes and shirt missing, a vest covering his torso. Behind him Rose hurried around their packs looking for her clothes, with the bed sheets coiled around her waste. Her large fleshy endowments were still obvious though, and the growled at Vladimir as she realised he had opened the door, encouraging him to close it over until she was ready. Sarah blushed in embarrassment, although it was more a courtesy than real shame, she had seen both of her companions naked before and it didn't really bother her anymore.

“We'll be out in a few minutes...” he smiled falsely to Sarah before closing the door and dashing off inside to try and appease his vexed partner.

Sighing Sarah returned to her own room and gathered up her pack. She hesitated when going to put it on. While they did have to continue on to their destination, she wasn't eagre to leave without knowledge of the result of her love affair. If she lifted her pack then they'd be off, out of here and on towards the monastery, but if she left it she could convince Rose and Vladimir to stay in town another day. It wouldn't really be a difficult task, neither really had zeal rivaling hers, and had it not been for her their journey would have already taken twice as long.

She dumped her pack back on the ground and returned to the hall. After a few minutes of loitering about it became evident that neither companion would be arriving shortly, so she knocked on their door again. Vladimir opened it promptly, but just a crack.

“Yes?” he asked in an exacerbated voice.
“Listen, do you guys want to stay in town another day? We're in no hurry to get to the monastery... I thought we could have a look around... y'know, have fun.” Sarah explained.
Vladimir looked at her as if she was sprouting horns. “Are you sure?” he said, finally.
“Yeah.” Sarah nodded.

Vladimir left the door and walked back into the room. Sarah could hear Rose's voice in conversation with his for a few moments before the thud of Vladimir's boots returned to the door. He popped his head through and smiled.

“That'd be great.” He nodded back, “We'll be out in a few more minutes- we'll see you downstairs, okay?”
“Okay.” Sarah answered.


It was a glorious day as they strode through the small town, picking things up from street vendors, partaking in minor contests of skill, and generally enjoying the sun. To Vladimir's joy there was not a cat man in sight, although Sarah secretly looked around in search of her missing Cyra.

Even without the cat there were many merriments to partake of, and she and her friends partook of many of them. After several hours they gratefully threw themselves into some chairs around an small which allowed outdoor seating. They sighed with satisfaction and exhaustion and ordered a round of cool drinks to cool them off while they contemplated lunch.

“Whoo, I can't believe that guy tried to parry with me...” Rose laughed, referring to a small tournament they had just left.
“Hah, nobody parries with my Rose.” Vladimir jested.
Rose elbowed him, “You don't even know what it means, do you?”
“Err... Party without the 't'?” Vladimir wheezed.
“Not quite.” Rose chuckled, “It's when you block someone's sword with your sword. But it's not advised when your swords as weak as that guy's was.”
“Now, what are we gonna eat?” Vladimir said, trying to veer the conversation away from duelling.
“Well-” Sarah started but was interrupted by her stomach which growled furiously for about ten seconds before quieting down.
“I guess you're hungry!” Rose guffawed, along with Vladimir. Sarah's face went bright pink.
“A... bit...” Sarah mumbled. She was indeed feeling famished now.
“Well, I guess you didn't have any breakfast, so it's alright to have a big lunch.” Vladimir reasoned.
Sarah's blush deepened but she didn't tell them that she had already had a hearty breakfast.
“Guh, I'm hungry too.” Rose moaned, “I could eat a horse.”
“Well, I better get you ladies some grub then.” Vladimir smiled, standing up, “Two steaks sound good?”
Both girls' stomachs growled in approval.
“I'll take that as a yes.” he laughed.


One rather satisfying meal later the trio sat around the table planning out the rest of the day. Leaving their empty plates and a handful of gold coins they departed in search of further enjoyments in the town.

“Damn...” Rose moaned, “It's hot.”
This was not a surprising complaint, considering she was still wearing her chain mail all over, and it was a hot day. However, Sarah was also feeling the heat through her billowing robes though, and didn't make any comment. Vladimir, however, did decide to comment on what to him sounded like an un-founded grievance (he himself was wearing a light green suit that kept him perfectly cool.)
“Well, it will be if you insist on wearing full plate out in the sun.” he moaned.
“This isn't 'full plate'.” Rose corrected him, “This is chain mail. And I don't have any other clothes.”
“You have that-that thing...” Vladimir protested, “the cloak!”
“Oh, yeah, and what would I wear under it, smart guy?” she glared.
Vladimir blushed. He had seen her wear the cloak many a time, but never wearing anything underneath, for obvious reasons. Struggling with the failing argument he turned to Sarah, “Well, why don't you have cooler clothes, like Sarah here?”
“Because I'm not a Cleric?” Rose pointed out, “Besides, who says she's cool?”
“Sarah, are you hot in that robe?” Vladimir asked.
Normally speaking Sarah would have staid out of this lover's tiff, but she couldn't help herself, “Actually, yeah. I'm roasting...” she mopped sweat off her forehead.
“See!? Just because we don't wear bloody tights...” Rose trailed off.
“Tights?!” Vladimir cried.
Their conversation shortly devolved into a pointless row.

In the mean time Sarah was finding herself not only hot but increasingly itchy. She could feel the sweat oozing out of her armpits and crotch, suffocating her skin and turning it red with irritation. While her companions became lost in their argument she shyly stepped aside and slipped her right arm out of her sleeve and dug her nails into her armpit. She shuddered at the pleasurable release that the scratch granted her, and with a guilty glance to make sure that neither friend was looking she slid her arm down over her sweaty body and gave her groin a vigorous scratch. She was so relieved from the itching that she hardly noticed the hair under her fingers either time, and shortly removed her arm and brushed it against her robe, rubbing off the thick sweat and rejoining the group's conversation.


Sometime later they returned to the inn, reconciled, and headed for their rooms to plot their next move. They had decided to eat separately, as Vladimir wanted to apologise for their former argument by taking Rose out to dinner (wearing a rather un-feasible new dress she had purchased after their argument.)

Once the couple had entered their room Sarah slunk swiftly off towards room five, and after a moment's hesitation knocked on the door. Silence followed. She glumly loitered outside for a few minutes before hammering more heavily on the door. She was rewarded by the sound of footsteps from within. However, she was taken aback by who answered the door.

The wooden frame creaked backwards to reveal a squat muscular man covered from head to toe in thick brown hair. From his fingers sprouted long curved claws, like blades, and his face shot outwards in a pronounced snout from which whiskers shot out in all directions. He was almost completely naked except for a tiny green loincloth around his waist.

Before he spoke he sniffed the air as if drinking in a divine fragrance. “Hmmm... Yes?” he said, with a kind tone.
“Err... you wouldn't happen to know a cat man by the name of Cyra would you?” Sarah said, hopefully.
“Cyra?” the cat chuckled. “I know of a Cyra. Why?”
“I don't understand- what do you mean, 'know of a Cyra'?” Sarah tilted her head.
“Listen, why do you want to know about this 'Cyra' anyway?” The cat asked.
“Well... I met him the other night... in the bar... and I've been looking for him and...” she trailed off.
“Ah... I'm very sorry miss, but the person you met was not Cyra.” he shook his head.
“What?! What do you mean?” Sarah asked furiously.
“Cyra is... the name of the most prominent Prince of Rah Kamen. I'm sorry, but whoever you met was probably using it as an alias.” the cat explained.
Sarah's jaw dropped and her stomach lurched. She had been had.
“But if you're after companionship...” the cat sniffed the air again, “I'd be more than willing to oblige. You smell beautiful.”
Sarah stepped back in revulsion. She smelled? Was that a compliment? “Err, no, I should probably go and get some dinner...” she excused herself and dashed down the hall.

Once in her room she headed for the toiled and threw up threw bitter disgust.


She returned to her room a few hours later, feeling foolish and depressed. She had thought that a big meal might help her mood, but despite devouring a roast chicken and all its accompaniments she still felt terrible. She reached her bed and stopped. With a moan she realised she still had labours to carry out if she was to maintain her beauty.

Disrobing she stared at her naked body in disbelief. She thought back through the day, hoping that her memories were false, and that somehow she had forgotten to remove her hair, but her memories would not change- she had definitely done so this morning. And yet now a thick clump of gold and black hair now covered her sex and armpits- and was spreading across her hips and up her belly, not to mention down her sides.

She raced to her pack and retrieved her tool with lightning speed, and quickly set about removing the ghastly material from her nether regions. Some half an hour later she looked herself over a final time to make sure she had gotten all of it, assuring herself beyond any shadow of a doubt that this time she had succeeded. She was, as she had hoped, completely bald of body hair. She stepped away, leaving a pile of cut fur where she had been standing.

She had noticed, while looking herself over, that her abs were rather loose, and remembered her heavy meals throughout the day (although didn't include her lunch, which she thought may well have been thrown up earlier.) She immediately dropped to the floor and commenced with her exercises, doubling the amount of each maneuver that she performed to make sure she kept her physique. She stood, dripping with sweat, and felt her tensed abs again. They felt better, more like before. She smiled.

Walking into the bathroom she moaned again, looking at her reflection. Her beautiful brown locks were auburn, crimson in places. She counted days on her fingers, trying to remember the last time she had dyed, but decided that it would be simplest just to dye now and forget about other times, and as the same time cleanse herself of the filthy sweat which once more threatened to suffocate her flesh.

One short bath later she stood looking at herself in the mirror, admiring her solid brown, soaking hair. Rubbing her teeth with her tongue, in preparation for the final stage of her labours. She was surprised to find that her teeth felt different, bigger in places, and was unsure why. Upon opening her lips and seeing her reflection the reason was obvious. Her canines had grown into a pointed shape, becoming a set of fangs which now pointed at each other ominously.

Sarah was shocked, but unsure how exactly to respond. On one hand, they did look very functional, and with the amount of meat she had torn through today, they could come in very handy, however, they also looked positively ghoulish to her, and she didn't want them to detract from her image. Fatigue prevailed though, and she simply brushed her teeth without thinking, before plunging finally into bed.

She rubbed her tongue against the fangs, while touching her delicate sex with her fingers, and feeling the tiniest strands of new hair forming around it. Sobbing to herself she cried;

“What the hell's happening to me?”

Chapter 3:

In the morning, sometimes, there is a moment between sleeping and waking. In this moment pure blissful ignorance is preserved, the memories of the past too distant to press on one's mind, the anxieties of the future too vague to threaten the dream. Sarah, ascending through this state felt only the warmth of her bed and her soft cosy surroundings, forgetting her fur and fangs. She purred, for that brief moment.

And then came consciousness. Her eyes flashed open and she flung her covers aside, sitting up in a blur and surveying herself. Two nights prior she had slept naked, due to her unexpected sexual liaison, but last night she had resumed her habit of wearing cotton underwear. She was dismayed to see that rows of gold and obsidian hair emanated out from underneath her panties. It stretched up over her belly button and down round her thighs. Her sides were completely covered, and around the lining of her bra fur stuck out at every angle. She tore the garments off, rending their seams apart and cast her eyes over her 'naked' body. Her crotch was completely lost under a thick layer of tiger-striped fur that stretched all around and encompassed her buttocks. Her breasts were similarly covered, yellow and black stripes converged across them and in the centre a prominent tuft of white fluffy hair swelling out from her bosoms. Her nipples seemed to have grown of their own accord and were still obvious despite the long fur.

Sarah panted as here eyes widened in horror. She pushed herself back, attempting somehow to escape her own body. Her attempt did little too console her as she felt her fingers tearing through the soft fabric of the bed. Looking upon them she discovered her fingernails to be long and curved, like talons. Her toe nails were the same. She instinctively slapped her hand across her face in shock and revulsion, and was too petrified with fear to remove it.

Suddenly unwilling to trust her eyes, she probed one long nail into her mouth and slapped her tongue against it. The sensation returned was completely perplexing, and it was only when she licked the flesh of her finger she knew why. Her tongue was hairy and rough, like a cats. Yanking her hand out of her mouth she saw a scarlet line drew across one side. Blood. Tentatively she poked her furry tongue against her upper fangs. They were sharper than daggers now.

It was all she could do not to scream. Leaping out of bed she alighted on all fours on the floor and was about to spring across the floor when she realised how she was standing. Standing on all fours she walked awkwardly to the bathroom, suddenly feeling uneasy on her two feet. She grabbed the door way for support and her razor sharp paws dug deep into the wood, fueled by the strength of anxiety.

Once inside she stood in front of the full-length mirror. She stood astride, spreading her legs, hoping to see her sex nestled within her furry hips, but to no avail. Sweat poured down her face and into her fluffy chest, weighing down the soft hair. The hair on her head had sprouted like water cress during the night and now spilled over. At the back it sank all the way to her ass, merging with the tiger stripe fur there, and in front it fell in clumps to her chest, merging there also. This last foot or so was all brown, but from there up it became a deep blazing crimson. She looked like a dryad on fire, her sleek brown base intertwined with furious flaming red.

Tears streamed from her eyes. She whimpered, as her efforts to hold back cries of sorrow failed. She cupped her breasts as if to say “What have you done to me?!” or “Why me?” even, but only made indecipherable sobs. After many minutes of tearful examination she panted and heaved with heavy breaths, and frantic logic entered her brain.

This wasn't possible. That thought lay behind every other- it simply was not possibly for a human to sprout fur, grow blade-like nails and vampiric fangs. She was under the effect of a spell- of course! Or perhaps... her mind raced. This was an unsatisfactory explanation, as it did not yield any solution to her situation. Finally she came to the conclusion she wanted.

She was dreaming. Or insane- either had a similar conclusion- that she was not hairy at all. It was so simple, and yet so pleasing. She giggled madly at the pleasure afforded her by this solution. As she laughed her troubles away she noticed something changing in her reflection. Her nails shortened back to their ordinary human length (although remained rather sharp), and inside her mouth she could feel her fangs receding the level they had been last night. She looked in astonishment as her nipples disappeared under the thick fur of her chest. As she witnessed this hope swelled in her bosom- was it possible that all her symptoms would disappear now?

Sadly this was not the case, and the changes stopped with her nipples. She stood stock still for many minutes more, hoping for her fur to retract and her hair to coil back into her skull. It was wistful thinking, really, and she cursed herself for hoping afterwards. With a heavy heart she started contemplating what to do next. Then came a knock at the door.

“Sarah? You in there?” Rose's voice came uncertainly from the door to her room.
Sarah lept to the door, “... Yes...” she said hoarsely.
“Sorry, thought you'd be up by now...” Rose mumbled.
“What time is it?” Sarah interrupted.
“Twelve.” Rose replied.
Sarah gasped. How could she have slept in so long? How long has she spent standing in front of that mirror. Her breathing once more became heavy.
“Hey, it's okay, we're all allowed to sleep in once or twice...” Rose laughed, “God knows we do...” she said, in reference to Vladimir.
“Err... yeah...” Sarah struggled to laugh.
“Well, we'll give you a few minutes to pack up... I guess you haven't had breakfast yet?” Rose said.
“No...” she confessed.
“Great, we'll meet you downstairs in about fifteen minutes for brunch, okay?” Rose proposed.
'Fifteen Minutes?!' Sarah thought desperately, 'I can't possibly get rid of all of this' she gestured at her furry body, 'in fifteen minutes.'
“Umm... okay...” Sarah answered.
“Great.” Rose said cheerily. Sarah could hear her footsteps as she walked away.

Sarah's heart hammered against her chest. She bit her lip. Blood dribbled out. Her fangs had returned. As had her claws and nipples.

“What... the hell?!” she cursed once more.


Twenty minutes later Sarah walked down the stairs, frowning and endeavouring to remain cool. Her flowing robe concealed her furry form, and her claws had once more vanished. After a few minutes of panic she had calmed and come upon the revelation that these 'extendables' (her nails, fangs and nipples) retract when she was calm, but extended when she was tense or panicked. As such she was holding onto her calm with bitter intent.

Rose and Vladimir were seated near the busy bar, with a spare seat prepared for others. They seemed to be fending predators off as other customers attempted to steal the seat for themselves. Sarah trotted over, resisting the terrible instinct to slink along on all fours. She swiftly deposited herself on the seat and felt a wave of pleasure emanating from her rear. She felt like she was sitting on an exceeding plush cushioned seat. In truth her only cushion was her furred behind, which she had a horrible feeling had grown plumper since last she sat on the hard seat. She was revolted by the pleasure she felt.

“You okay?” Rose asked, with genuine concern, as she saw the expression of anguish whisper over Sarah's face.
“Oh, err, alright...” Sarah said, blushing, “I don't think some of that food agreed with me yesterday, I threw up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep for hours...” she tried to excuse her late wake-up.
“Ah.” Vladimir nodded, “I know the feeling.” Vladimir's constitution was notoriously weak.
“Err, I hope you don't mind, we ordered you bacon and eggs... You feeling up to it?” Rose asked.
Within her mind, Sarah grinned. She was ravenous, and had an excuse now to eat everything they ordered her. Before her lips could answer, her stomach did with a long low growl.
“I guess so.” Rose laughed.


Sarah patted her swollen furry belly after finishing the meal. For a moment she felt extremely glad that she wasn't wearing underwear, but cursed herself for the thought immediately afterwards. Her new form was something to contempt, that she must remedy as soon as possible. She had eaten like a wild beast, although neither companion noticed, as their own heads were buried in their food. She had learned to control her retractable fangs to some degree, and used them with great skill to devour her breakfast.

She winced with discomfort, despite the satisfaction of a full meal, as her comfortable seat had only become more and more uncomfortable as the meal progressed. It wasn't until she swallowed the last morsel of food that she noticed the growing pain at the base of her spine, and since then, waiting for Rose and Vladimir to finish, it had become more and more frustrating. She wanted to rub the area in search of the disturbance, but dare not do so, lest her companions notice.

“Ready to go?” she asked impatiently, eagre to stand, as the others finished off their meals. They all had their backpacks of varying sizes with them, Rose's looking larger now that it was before, stuffed with clothes she had bought the day before.
“Yeah.” they smiled, “Lets.”

Minutes later the trio were walking out of town and into the surrounding countryside. They chatted and laughed as they went, just as they had the day prior, although now Vladimir frequently went franticly digging into his pocket to retrieve the map and compass, constantly re-assuring himself that they were on the right route. His insecurity was a great source of amusement to the two women, who went into bouts of giggling whenever they saw the look of terror sweep over his face, which always preceded his search.

Sarah, despite her jovial laughing, was becoming more and more tense as the journey proceeded. It took almost all of her attention to keep her claws retracted, and she kept her hands hidden within the loose sleeves of her robe just to be on the safe side. She struggled to speak sometimes when her fangs sprung into action and impaired her tongue.

Furthermore, inside her looming robe her body, or more specifically her skin, was revolting against her. She could feel the sweat forming a second skin, even under her fur. She was completely covered, from head to foot in the salty fluid. And it was starting to itch. The itch spread in the same pattern as her fur, but extended the every corner of her body. It seemed like a grim prophecy of her future, if the itch was to be believed, her fur would first cover her mid-section, shoulders, legs arms and finally her face. Her claws formed and elongated as the urge to scratch steadily increased.

After a few miles Sarah noticed that her walk had changed. The urge to walk on all fours had ceased before breakfast, but now she felt her hips wiggle as she walked. Normally speaking she would be shocked and appalled by this whorish behaviour, but now it seemed the least of her worries. Rather than correct the movement she let it carry on, after all, it was within the sanctity of her robe, neither friend would notice it.

However, shortly Vladimir noticed something else.
“Sarah, your hair looks a bit... different... today.” he said, looking at the fiery mop above her robes.
“Yeah...” Rose agreed.
“Oh... I think it needs a bit of a dye... and cut...” Sarah nodded.
“Really? I think it looks good.” Vladimir shrugged. “Not as good as yours, dear, of course.” he added quickly.
“Very good dear.” Rose said sarcastically, “But seriously... I like your hair colour. I don't know why you dye it.”
Sarah simply shrugged and went on walking, still shaking her hips from side to side without care.

However, the movement was merely the physical manifestation of something much deeper. With every shake of her pelvis she felt something inside her grow. A greedy, guilty pleasure. A smirk was creeping across her face, as her appalled reason took a back seat to her mental procedures, and she starting to think that the dampness in her crotch was not just sweat.

Her eyes moved over Vladimir in a way they had not for many years. She measured up his appeals, a firm abdomen, despite his otherwise skeletal build. He was surely agile, and his skill with the bow was never lacking, although his rather weak personality seemed to be a very strong draw back. She had never seen his man hood, but through the tights could see he was not as large as Cyra. Altogether he had a feminine air about him, his thin build, his personality... his build... his tights...

Her glance drifted to Rose. Rose was strong, both of character and of body, with thick muscles and weighty endowments. She was everything Vladimir was not. Taking in her curvaceous chest, enhanced by her full plate armour, Sarah could not help but think that Rose was a very attractive young woman.

The thought immediately struck her as odd- she had never been attracted to either Vladimir or Rose, or any women for that matter (and only the odd male at that.) And yet she couldn't suppress her blooming attraction. By succumbing to her swaying hips she had opened the flood gates and allowed this inner seduction to creep outwards.

With stout determination she stilled her hips, quelled her writhing passions and set her mind on the road ahead... it was going to be a long walk.


At long last Sarah sat down alone in her tent. She pulled her sweat sodden robe off and cast it aside, gazing once more upon her naked body. Blond and black rings now traveled all the way from her knees up to her neck and then down to her elbows. Her fur was matted with sweat, as was her hair, which thankfully hadn't grown any longer, although it had become a deep auburn.

Her breasts looked, to her, larger, even with fur subtracted, and her nipples looked positively huge. Despite the fact her claws and fangs were all withdrawn her nipples still shot out like lances. The reason was no longer anxiety.

A few yards away in their own tent Vladimir and Rose were going at it with no care for their companion, (or the surrounding wild life, from the sounds of things) who, to their knowledge, was trying to sleep. Each cried in pleasure, sending the surrounding fauna running in minor terror.

Sarah craved to do as they did. Her sense of revulsion, while strong, was tucked away at the back of her brain, under the lock and key of her new feline logic. Were it still in power she was pull out her golden instrument and do away with her fur coat (not that it would do her much good, she figured), then wash, and work out (she negated even this duty, despite the small potbelly she had developed under her fur.)

But as a cat only one thing ruled. Lust. And right now she lusted for much.

Her own body, her own sweat and juice wafting through the night air set her on fire. Her brain was on fire with the conflicting forces, one half calling her a disgusting freak, the other, winning half looking out from inside her eyes and seeing a sexy young nubile girl, whose already ample figure was being greatly augmented by her transformation. Though her brain was still essentially the same, the new circuitry, new instinct, ceased complete control so long as one emotion was ruling her mind- lust. Her libido was winning, and as a result her narcissistic urges were becoming overwhelming.

She lifted one hairless hand, and made sure her nails were retracted, and, needing no further inclination, stabbed it into her sex.

In the night that followed she would battle her friends octave for octave, for the volume of their orgasmic cries.

Though it was a long and hard night, Sarah won.
(This post was last modified: May 26, 2018 6:06 pm by JBowman_uk.)
May 26, 2018 6:03 pm
Liked by preggolovah (May 26, 2018)
JBowman_uk Offline
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Post: #3
RE: Looking for a fantasy story
Chapter 4:

Sarah awoke in the ecstasy she had fallen asleep in. A warm smile spread across her feline lips and she opened her eyes. However, now in the harsh light of day horror set in once more. She was covered from head to foot now in thick striped fur, no point on her skin was uncovered. Between her toes, on her eyelids, even around the inner curve of her behind. She also realised the cause of the growing pain in that reason- a long tail had sprouted from the base of her spine and extended along the length of her leg, widening around the end. Her hair, now all a sombre burning red, spilled over her, reaching the backs of her knees and the sides of her hips (it seemed naturally prone to go around her impressive bust, and as such didn't cover her brazen naked front.

Her face had undergone the greatest change though, as she found out, both by rubbing it with her claws and then by fetching her hand mirror. Covered in a thin layer of fur, the gold and black pattern that covered the rest of her body was prominent here too, stripes shot out from a nexus between her eyes. Her forehead was blond, thin black strips ran across the top of the eyes, swallowing up her eyebrows (from which long white whisker-like growths sprouted) and running aside. To the sides of her eyes was gold, and her cheeks covered by solid black, punctuated by her white whiskers, each almost a foot in length, stretching out and resting almost on her shoulders. Gold spread from her mouth, and she had a goatee of a similar colour, but separating these patches was another black band under her lip. Her lips, one of the few bald parts of her flesh, and had turned obsidian black, as if to accentuate her new evil. Her ears stretched out from underneath her hair, and had curled and coiled into the shape of a cats, thin, pointed and long. To top it off, her green eyes hand transformed, turning into green marbles with dark slits in the centre. As she looked over her new face the slits widened and thinned to pick up up the shifts in morning light inside her tent.

The attraction she had to her furry form hadn't vanished, but it seemed to slumber while she and her sense of revulsion had awoken. She panted and bared her claws, now an impressive two inches in length, not counting the curve. She plunged then into her fluffy white chest and tried to rip her fur, nay her flesh, out with her claws themselves. However, deep as her claws dug they seemed barely capable of piercing her hide. They nipped and stung, but never really cut. Confused, she clutched her right, striped breast, expecting blood (and perhaps, subconsciously, milk) to burst out from within. Her breast jiggled and contorted under her grip, but she could not pierce the thick skin. She did manage to stimulate it, prompting her nipple to jut out from under her fur. She snarled in disgust and retracted her claws. She did not notice how easily she did this- already having mastered control of her beastly talons.

From outside came the sound of waking lovers, yawns and quiet moans as they returned to consciousness. Sarah's new ears strained to pick up on every minute sound, and did so excellently- she could hear every sound in untold detail, and her mind slowly deciphered each one- the sound of their flesh parting, the thud as their limbs collided with the soft grass.

Terror set in quickly- her companions had awakened, and it would not be long until they came to check on her, and discovered her naked (although she could hardly call herself naked, with fur obscuring every square inch of her flesh), furry and filthy. She had to do something to hide her unholy body, and fast. Her blue robe lay discarded on the floor of her tent, where she had thrown it off last night. She crawled inside and threw the hood over her head.

For the first time in her life the robe felt uncomfortable. It was a loose fit, still, but with her whiskers suppressed she felt supremely irritated, and her fur became itchy within the confines of the garment. As yesterday she started to feel hot in it- immediately, as if she had lit a fire inside with nowhere to vent the smoke. She packed her belongings and stood, making sure that she was covered by the robe. She smiled from underneath the cover at how successfully she had hidden herself. She was about to step out of the tent when she realised her naked feet poked out from under. They were unusually comfortable- even more so than normal shoes, but she knew that she could not risk exposing them to her compatriots. She stuffed her furry feet into the boots grumpily and set about putting her tent away.

When Rose and Vladimir finally approached her she was placing the last few pegs inside her bag. Sensing their feet plodding along the soft ground she immediately yanked her paws deep inside her robe and hung her head so that the hood's shadow covered her solemn face.

“Morning.” Vladimir yawned.
“Aren't you hot?” said Rose, scratching at her armour.
“Err, no, I had a chill this morning...” Sarah said sheepishly, despite the fact that she could already feel her face becoming thick with sweat, “Thought I'd wrap up warm.”
“Fair enough.” Vladimir shrugged, “Need any help there?” he gestured to her pack.
Rose frowned, neither satisfied with Sarah's excuse, nor her lover's behaviour. She said nothing.
“Thanks.” Sarah said quietly, as Vladimir lifted her pack up and allowed her to slip her arms through the straps.
“We've still got some packing to do.” Rose stated, “C'mon Vlad.” she said, as if ordering a dog.

Vladimir followed, and with her pointed ears Sarah could hear the sounds of a lovers tiff before it even erupted. A wicked grin spread across her ebony lips. She immediately shook it off when she became aware of it, but couldn't help but notice the feelings of pleasure radiating from her hips at the thought of the two fighting.


It was an uneventful walk to the monastery. Vladimir carried Rose's heavy pack unhappily. They all walked in silence, although Sarah could hear the discreet movements of muscles as their necks moved around, looking and gesturing with their heads. She could smell their emotions, and although consciously she was far too busy to care about them, the feeling of pleasure in her abdomen continued to swell.

They reached the monastery a few ours before done. The colossal structure was turned into a magnificent warm amber by the setting sun, and its heavy oak doors looked almost alive in the light. At the towering heights of the buildings roof tall towers cast shadow across the rest of the structure. In this shade sat foreboding gargoyles in various sinister positions. They all seemed to stare down upon the trio casting silent curses upon them. Rose and Vladimir shuddered at the sight of them, but Sarah, who still had her head hung low, could not see them.

Vladimir took the initiative and strolled over to the door (struggling slightly with the backpack) and knocked loudly. The hollow sound echoed inside and the muffled sounds could be heard outside. Before long the door creaked open an inch, and a grinning bald man in a habit looked at Vladimir. Vladimir opened he mouth to speak but the monk waved his hand in dismissal and pushed the door further open, allowing the trio to enter.

The monastery was as impressive inside as it was out- they quickly entered the main hall, where row after row of wooden benches lead towards the marble alter, which was cluttered with gold and silver relics. Beyond the alter, and along all the walls, were stretching stained glass windows, each depicting different holy crusades, a paladin carving his blade through a series of undead horrors, a cleric healing a wounded ally, and, over the alter, a golden angel, bathed in heavenly light, hovering over the ruins of an unholy city, burned to the ground by holy power.

Half a dozen monks seemed to have come to the door to greet them, and as they entered there was a lot of bowing and a few “Hello”s (it seemed most of them were keeping reverently silent.) The trio bowed, and as she did so Sarah's red hair spilled out of her hood. Her hands shot out to catch it, but seeing her furry paws she retracted them. She raised her head, and a large length of hair still hung out through her hood, traveling as far down as her hips. She turned away from her friends in an effort to hide the development.

“Welcome all!” proclaimed one rather authoritative monk, who loomed over the rest, with broad shoulders and a flat stomach. His hair was grey and long, pouring into his habit. He had a jutting, firm jaw. “I trust,” he said in a deep, booming voice, “You are here to complete your training in your various divine fields?” he gestured to the three.
“Yes.” Rose grinned eagrely, “That's why we're here.”
“The arrangements will be made immediately!” he exclaimed, commanding some more monks with hand signals, “In the mean time you may feel free to explore our humble abbey.” he chuckled, still in a loud commanding tone.
“Thank you.” Vladimir bowed low.

The monks started hurrying around, and took the travelers' packs, while Rose and Vladimir walked off themselves. Sarah looked around, and a thought struck her. She approached the head monk, who had been watching her ever since he finished his speech. In a quiet voice she whispered to him.

“Is it possible that I could speak with you... alone?”
“Of course, child, of course.” he nodded, and led her off.

Rose and Vladimir stared after her, but said nothing.


Inside a smaller chamber, much like an office, the monk took his seat behind a large desk. Even seated he was almost as tall as Sarah, standing. He sighed and cracked his knuckles, then stretched his arms across the desk. He cracked his neck finally, and said to her.

“So, what exactly did you want to see me about?”
“I...” Sarah's breath became frantic suddenly. “I... am afflicted!” she said in a raspy voice, as if she were insane.
“Afflicted?” the monk raised an eyebrow, “What sort of affliction?”
“I...” Sarah held up her claws, letting her sleeves slip back and reveal her furry hands, “I...” she said, still in a possessed, maddened voice, “I am a beast!”
“Hold child.” the monk said calmly, “Explain to me how you came to be so. I assume you were not always this way.”
“I...” Sarah said for sixth time, “I am human.” she pointed her nails at her chest, “I was human!” she sobbed.
“Please child! Calm down. I cannot help you if I do not know what is wrong with you!” the monk commanded.
Sarah shook her head, “Sorry... I... I... I lay with a cat man, from Rah Kamen. And now only a few days later... I am this!?” she cast her robe aside and revealed her full naked form.
The monk was rather taken aback. After a few moments he cleared his throat and said, “I see...”
“Help Me!” Sarah demanded, fury entering her voice.
“I am afraid, child, that our art can only cure afflictions of an unholy nature.” he shook his head.
“Am I Not Unholy?!” Sarah snarled, plunging her talons into his desk. They dug deep in the wood.
“Nay.” the monk said simply.

Sarah wanted to plunge her claws into the monks chest and rend out his heart, but she did not. Letting out a terrible caterwaul she turned and lept at the door, sending it flying on its hinges. She bounded down the corridor and through another door.


“Why don't you just go to hell, Vladimir?” Rose sneered.
“I'm sorry, I didn't think I was allowed in your house.” he retorted.
“You little...” Rose's teeth gritted together and her fists clenched.
“Oh, just forget it!” the archer yelled, walking away from her, “I don't care what you think, or what you do.”

Rose stormed off in the opposite direction. A rift had been growing between the two over the course of the day. Rose suggested that morning that they take the opportunity of being in the monastery to get married, and Vladimir hadn't taken it well. He dodged the question, and afterwards started being far nicer to Sarah than her. This had culminated in the argument from which they now both exited bitterly.

Vladimir walked sulkily through another door, not caring where he was going. However, as the door shut behind him he realised he was in complete darkness. 'Damn', he thought, 'Walked into a bloody cupboard.' He was about to turn and leave when he heard something in the darkness.

“Vladimir?” came Sarah's voice, hoarse with crying, but also with a hint of neurosis.
“Sarah?” he replied, curiously, “What are you doing here?”
“Nothing... until now!” she purred, and lept upon Vladimir.

He made some startled cries of surprise but quickly succumbed as her hot black lips met his. She shoved him against the wall and sliced his shorts off, revealing his manhood, hidden in the darkness. She felt the hard rod in her furry hands, and prompted a moan of passion from Vladimir. He was nowhere near as long or wide as Cyra, but right now Sarah was desperate. She thrust herself upon him, and both moaned in pleasure.

Vladimir's hands shot out and hammered against the wall. He let out gasps of passion as he felt Sarah's erect nipples prod his chest, and his eyes burned with lust. He had to see this beautiful creature that now ravished him. For years he had silently pined for her naked form, with fully knowledge of the rigors she undertook to maintain it. Now, it was finally his, and he had to see it. His hand struck a window and batted the blocked out thing open, casting light upon the room.

His eyes widened in horror as he took in what was standing next to him. His good friend, Sarah, mutated and covered in horrible fur, sliding along his meat with terrible passion. He screamed and tried to step back, but realised he was leaning against a wall.

Sarah looked at him with disappointment- her lust would not be sated by him, now. However, looking down she realised that in his shock he had ejaculated into her, satisfying one of her satanic requirements. Leaping off him she galloped out of the room on all fours.

She ran blindly, following her nose to some unknown goal, where her instinctual desire. She shortly found herself in a small guest room, simply furnished with one bed, a bedside table and cabinet. Standing in front of the bed was Rose. Sarah licked her lips.

“Sarah?!” Rose exclaimed.

Sarah said nothing, but dove upon Rose as she had Vladimir. Her claws cleaved through Rose's full plate armour with ease, and she tossed away the useless metal, revealing Rose's impressive body. Her breasts were bigger than Sarah's, even with fur and her recent growth, heavy and round, surmounted by fat red nipples that looked so inviting to Sarah. She was bulky, with muscle, she had a six pack far more defined than Sarah's had ever been. It seemed attractive, now.

Rose looked into Sarah's feline eyes, and her breasts heaved with breath. She had been shoved onto the soft guest bed now, and Sarah sat over her, her limbs creating a cage, her long flowing hair like a curtain around her. In Rose's mind she felt fear but her heart and crotch were urging her on. Seeing as she had no option, unarmed, and underneath a woman who could cut her in half with her pinky, Rose gave way, removing what remained of her armour freely.

Sarah smiled, seeing Rose's decision. Without a word she dropped onto her and ravished her. Her obsidian lips wrapped as far as they could around Rose's breast and started sucking, taking great care to keep her teeth retracted, while her furry tongue was stimulating the girl's nipple in ways she had never before felt. Rose moaned in ecstasy and stretched her arms down, cupping Sarah's furry endowments and squeezing them between her firm hands. Sarah let out a gasp of pleasure, briefly lifting her lips from Rose's breast to do so. Rose, with a wicked sense of pride, continued massaging the cat's breasts and eventually found her nipples. She was confused to find them damp with some unknown fluid, but was too caught up in her act of intercourse to do anything about it. She pinched and twirled the nipples, encouraging more fluid to pour out, and more purs of pleasure to erupt from deep inside Sarah. Lifting her hand up Rose licked them to discover what the odd liquid was. It was clear and sweet, and delicious.

However, before she could squeeze another handful out Sarah had slip up to kiss her new lover, prompted mainly by the fact that Rose had stopped groping her. Their lips met in a curious kiss, as Sarah's furry tongue wrapped around Rose's perfect human one. Their nostrils flared as the kiss went on and both had to breath through their noses.

It was Rose who broke the exchange, pushing Sarah up above her, so that her face was nuzzled in the cats white fluffy chest, between her breasts. She quickly put her mouth to one of her breasts and began sucking, eagre to drink more of the sweet colostrum from Sarah's breasts. Sarah made no protest, merely moans of approval as Rose's tongue roamed through her fur and tickled her nipple. She didn't even realise that mouthful after mouthful of nectar was leaking out of her and into Rose. As the flow from one breast started to slow Rose eagrely switched to the other and started draining it. When she was finally finished she accidentally released a burp of satisfaction. Sarah giggled.

Twisting around Sarah crawled along planting a series of butterfly kisses along Rose's body, starting with her neck, then her chest, her stomach (Sarah noted that oddly her abs seemed to be lacking definition now) and finally her goal, Rose's sex. The girls vagina seemed to be hidden behind almost as much fur as her own, but she didn't care, right now she was just hoping for a drink, and this was where she was going to get it. Thrusting her head forward she rested her retracted fangs (which it must be remembered are still longer and sharper than any human canines) on Rose's flesh, prompting a yelp of slight pain and surprise from the human, and then sent her furry tongue probing in. Rose writhed in pleasure, and she quickly decided to return the favour. She lifted her arms and pried apart the cats legs, spreading her pussy wide. Sarah's tail whipped around with pleasure and Rose had to bat it away before she cupped her lips to the cat's erogenous zone, still battling with the waves of pleasure erupting from her own, and started sucking. The fur around Sarah's pussy was already damp, but sweet juice started to cascade into Rose's lips as soon as she sucked, and she lapped it up eagrely, releasing another small burp. Sarah, also enjoying the taste of her lovers cum, lapped it up like a sauced of milk, but felt the need to end things soon, as her body was already bucking out of control as it was. She sent her arms down and clutched Sarah's breasts again. This time she was surprised to find them spraying liquid out, but dismissed it, just as Rose had she, and set her plan completely into action, moving her rapid licking up to Rose's clitoris. At the same moment Rose was already tickling Sarah's clit, sending her tail into a mad frenzy. Finally she came, sending a last wave of cum into Rose's lips, prompting her own orgasm too, followed, rather amusingly, by a loud burp.

“That... was... amazing...” Rose said, dreamily.
“Mmm...” Sarah purred.

Suddenly her feline ears stood on end. There were footsteps in the corridor outside, pounding closer. She looked around with terror, and spied the window. Without a word to Rose she lept for the window, spinning and carving a hole as wide as her whiskers with her claws, and then alighting outside. She looked around and then pelted away on all fours, her hair and tail flowing behind her in the wind.

She ran mindlessly for almost and hour, before stopping, under the light of the moon.

“Where the hell am I going?!” she thought, sadly, “What am I doing?!”

Before she could ponder the reality of her situation, having slept with both her friends, and then fled from the scene with none of her equipment or clothing, her belly rumbled in protest. She was famished.

Looking around she became horrified by her own lust. She saw in a field beside her a full grown cow, grazing sleepily. She licked her lips and grinned, her horror disappearing to the back of her mind, replaced by hunger and lust.
May 26, 2018 6:07 pm
Liked by preggolovah (May 26, 2018)
JBowman_uk Offline
Junior Member

Posts: 25
Joined: Sep 2013
Reputation: 25
Post: #4
RE: Looking for a fantasy story
Chapter 5:

Sarah was awoken by the mid-day sun climbing overhead and glaring in her eyes. She was naked and without shelter, but not cold, as her coat of fur insulated her prefectly.

“Where... am I?” she tilted her head to try and avoid the sun's harsh light.

Suddenly her memories came rushing back to her and she remembered it all, ther transformation, the fornication, her dinner and of course, sleeping rough. She felt a dull ache in her stomach, doubtless overfull with meat, but had not yet opened her eyes to survery herself. She was curled up like a cat, or a human in the fetal position, paws all squeezed together in front, curled up almost into a ball. She stretched out into a normal lying position and sat up. She groaned as she did, the pain in her stomach surging. At the same time her legs were forced to splay outwards for some reason. Looking down she was surprised to discover a great furry swelling in her belly. Remembering how much raw cow she ate she could guess why she had such a belly. She grasped it to test how flabby she was, but found it (under the inch or so of fur) to be firm and solid, like her abs had been. She wondered about her abs, and tried to tense them. Nothing. The poor muscles had been stretched away to nothingness.

Against her wishes she arose, wanting really just to go to sleep for a few more hours, but as it was already noon, and she hadn't been up late at all, barely past six, to her recollection. It seemed suddenly that she needed to sleep for far longer, as if to produce energy to fuel some inner mechanism. Although that in itself didn't particularly surprise her- all the changes she was going through no doubt required a great deal of energy, not to mention all the strenuous activity she was partaking in yesterday.

Once on her feet she was struck by a few things. One was that she was growing more front heavy, and the other was that her legs were spreading out. She tried to bring them back in together, but felt them pressing up against her belly and at the same time stumbled. She regained her balance and noted that her tail had show out behind her to counteract her new centre of gravity. Feeling it, she didn't think her stomach was that big, but when she looked down at it, she noticed something substantially bigger than it that may well be contributing to her balance issues.

Her breasts, already formidable before, were now proudly swollen and fat, but round and healthy like two fruits, bordering on over ripeness, begging to be picked. Her nipples were slowly rising out of her fur as she once more became aroused by herself. Sighing ruefully she calmed her flaming hormones and tried to poke one of her nipples back in. The result was a s quirt of golden fluid shooting out.

She snarled. She has learned to accept her new changes in body shape (albeit begrudgingly) and wasn't really disgusted by her new shape, so much as annoyed. She felt malice- she was a busy woman, with a lot of things on her mind, things to do, places do go, people to meet. She didn't need all these balance issues complicating the issue.

Then she was forced to think about something. What places exactly did she have to go? Who was she going to meet? Her heart and subconscious told her that she was busy, and had all these things to attend to, but when she thought about it her mind couldn't think of anything. Her main responsibility had been going to the monastery and becoming a cleric. That was out the window now. She didn't care much, which would have surprised her (the old her), she had been very concerned about her career.

Ignoring her pressing but elusive responsibilities Sarah focused on the one thing that was pressing, and that she did need to address. Hunger. Despite her seemingly full belly she still felt empty, and needed a surfeit of food to satisfy her. While she did want to force her belly back into her torso and reclaim her waistline, she wanted to silence the pain of hunger more.

She looked around for something to eat, and as if hearing her thoughts a cow mooed loudly from nearby. She licked her lips and turned to face it.


Half an hour later Sarah emerged from the bloody remains of the cow, bone and sinew lying everywhere. Miraculously, she herself had remained clean of blood, and now slunk off away from the gory scene, without quite so much grace as she would usually muster, as her legs were even more pushed out by her plump belly.

She was now walking with intention back towards the town where this whole sordid affair started. It was the nearest place, not only to her, but to Rah Kamen. She no longer had any money (and had already technically stolen two cows) but knew she had to get to Rah Kamen to get to the bottom of this.

Her belly grumbled indignantly after she gave it an errant scratch and she decided to sit down for a moment to let her meal digest. Looking at her belly (now obviously larger with the mass of her lunch) she gave a soft giggle, realising it looked a little like a real cat curled up on her lap, its face, tail and paws all hidden underneath, only its wide furry back showing. After a few minute she sighed and stood up- wheezing as her stomach ached. It didn't look like she'd have time to digest. As she waddled forward, her chubby tummy and swollen breasts jiggling as she did, she thought, ruefully, 'At least the walk will give me a chance to work off some of this weight...'

Once on the outskirts of town, though, a thought struck her. When she thought back to other cat men, to Cyra, they had all been wearing clothes. He himself had said that this wasn't really natural for a cat (and she agreed, all the clothes she had been wearing in the past few days felt like manacles on her flesh), but in human society it was essential. She stood out enough already without being naked, so she decided that there was nothing for it but to steal some clothes.

Fortunately for her she was just passing a farm-house and outside it hung a washing line of drab garments. The occupants were nowhere to be seen, and with a surprising amount of grace Sarah vaulted over the garden's wall, snatched some dull green swampy swathes of fabric and dove into a nearby shrubbery where she could dress. It turned out she had pilfered shorts and a vest, that she felt bitterly sure belonged to a child, as they drew inexorably tight around her broad hips and full bosoms respectively. The vest couldn't even circumnavigate her portly front, and simply lay uselessly above it. This didn't seem a major issue, as she was only concerned about covering her privates, but it did annoy her. The clothes were still incredibly uncomfortable though. Her tail in particular hurt, as it was forced out at an unnatural angle down her leg. It whipped violently at the ground.

She crept out of the garden awkwardly, as her liquid grace was now encumbered by the ill fitting clothes, and then made her way along the road, slowly. Her strides, which could easily span over a metre, or two if she was going full pelt, were short and restrained, as any exaggerated movement might snap the overstressed clothes off. At such a slow speed she would have preferred to walk on all fours, but that too would mean the end of her decency. And besides, none of the cat men had done that before. She grimaced. Was she the only cat-person who wanted to walk on all fours? She sincerely hoped now.


Arriving back in the town with a dignified waddle, Sarah took it in with a new perspective. Not only were there the sights and sounds from before, but now the rich spectrum of scents which she could now interpret. There was a fishmonger's somewhere in town, she knew now, as its smell permeated the air even when it was out of sight. Giving little glances at passers by she smiled mischievously, realising from the heavy scent of one upon the other that they had had sex, recently. As she enjoyed her new sense of smell she walked aimlessly through the town, all the while being led subconsciously by her nose, which tracked a vague familiar scent.

Within a few minutes she wound up back at the inn, and its sent, though something she hadn't noticed at the time, seemed familiar and homely. It had strengthened and diversified as she approached, and now she could identify dozens of different scents emanating from within. The tantalising smell of bacon, the nostalgic odour of oak furniture, and the scent of a fair few patrons, met her nose. One stood out above the others, and she had a fair idea of who that was.

She was taken aback by the sounds as she stepped into the inn. They surrounded and engulfed her, making her delicate ears ring painfully. Every conversation jabbed at her and, if she had wanted, she could easily eavesdrop on anyone. However, upon entering a slight hush rippled through the room, particularly among the cat men, who all looked at her. She didn't fully notice this, but instead continued to follow her nose, heading for the stairs. She frowned as some of the conversations (which were returning loudly now) caught on her subconscious, and the word 'queen' recurred several times. 'Odd.' she shrugged, and continued.

As she reached the top of the stairs she saw who she was looking for, hovering at the door of his room, but hesitating before going in. He was sniffing audibly, presumably trying to decide what it was he smelled that was familiar. He immediately stopped when he saw Sarah and his expression became one of awe. He fell to his knees as if in prayer.

It was the stout brown cat she had talked to only a few days ago. She took him in again, with different eyes. His fur was actually a brown, laced with seams of tan and gold, and was substantially longer than hers in all places. Her eyes probed between the strands of fur and easily made out his figure. Despite his stature he didn't seem fat at all, he was covered in thick and heavy muscles that made him look rather strong indeed. His tail was short, and hung down to his knee. His feet were completely different from her human shaped feet, four large digits stood out diagonally, almost forming a semi circle. A fifth toe stuck out of his heel. All had long curved white claws attached to them that looped upwards before arching back down to the ground. His fingers seemed to automatically curve rather than stay straight, and he had a matching set of short curved claws on his hands. His face was most interesting, unlike Sarah or Cyra, he had a snout sticking out forwards from his face. His upper lit was split and he had a small black nose placed in the centre of a vast array of whiskers. His eyes were like Sarah's green with dark slits. Like all other cat men in the town he seemed to be struggling to keep decent, and a pair of tiny shorts were tied to his waist so tightly that they looked rather painful.

“Milady.” he said reverently.
“Eh?” Sarah said, with slight annoyance.
He seemed more surprised as she addressed and approached him, “It is- uh, an honour!” he went on.
“An... honour?” she asked, curiously. 'He wasn't like this last time...' she thought, “Do you remember me?”
“Remember you? I'm sorry, milady, I do not.” he bowed deeply.
“Err... a few days ago? I talked to you about a cat named Cyra?” she explained.
A look of wonder spread across the cat's snout. “You? You?” he asked, almost laughing. Then a look of terror gripped him and his jaw dropped, “Oh, milady, I am sorry, I did not know it was you in human guise- I am greatly sorry!” he apologised.
Sarah noticed that despite his seemingly overwhelming guilt he was purring. She was starting to get annoyed and confused by the cat's reaction. “What do you mean 'human guise'?” she snarled, “I was human.”
“I am sorry my lady, but I cannot understand.” the cat said, bowing again.
“That...” Sarah sighed, “Makes two of us.”
“If there is anything I may do to assist I am at your disposal.” the cat said, and Sarah could swear she saw a grin spread over his face, but the snout made his face hard to read.
“May we go into your room?” Sarah said in a tired voice, “It could take some time to explain.”
“Of course.” The cat purred with a smile that displeased Sarah. He opened the door (which had been hanging half-open) fully and led her in. He stood in front of the bed oddly, almost expectantly. When Sarah remained standing he became tense.
“Four days ago I slept with a cat-man who claimed to be called Cyra.” Sarah explained, “At that point I was human. Since then I have gradually transformed into...” she gestured to her figure, “...this.”
“Err...” was the cat's only reply.
“I spoke to you three days ago. You told me that Cyra is the name of a prince from Rah Kamen, and that whoever I slept with was lying to me. Is this true?” she asked, with a harsh, almost malevolent tone in her voice.
“I... I am not sure. I have never heard of what you describe happening before.” the cat shrugged.
Sarah growled, then sighed, then asked “Alright, if you can't tell me that at least tell me about all this 'milady' business.”
“That is simple.” the cat smiled, “Unlike with humans, feline females are very rare. One female to a thousand males. Also unlike you, our society is matriarchal- we are ruled by females. In Rah Kamen there are eight empresses who govern over the city. However, these have been poor days for us, and only a few months ago our eighth empress died and left us with no female successor. I know the faces of the other seven very well, so when I saw you I knew you were not one of them. And by our laws and customs any female may now take the eighth throne. I assumed you had.”
Sarah was shocked. She had no idea about the cat-man society, and was now interested in this possibility. “Are you saying that... if I were to travel to Rah Kamen I may be able to become this... eighth empress?”
“Definitely. Unless it has already been taken, but I doubt that. Even if you were not an empress, our females are well looked after, as they are required to keep the population up.” he gave a nod to her bloated stomach, causing Sarah to angrily bear her teeth, but she said nothing. “Now... “ the cat chuckled, “I have this bed, and nothing to do... it is yours if you want it...”
Sarah was appalled by his implication. But before she could spit vile abuse at him her hips started to sway forward where she stood. They surged back and forth, sending waves up and down her body. Each wave crashed against her will power and made her want more and more to leap into the bed. She held out bravely against the waves though, if sleeping with one cat man had done this to her, what in blazes would happen if she slept with another?
“Wait a minute...” she said, slamming her hips back against the wall and holding them steady there, “If there are only eight women in Rah Kamen, and they're all empresses... surely all the people are their children? But that'd make everyone a prince of a princess?”
The cat looked disappointedly at her and paused before answering. “There is no such thing, in our society. It is true, though, that everyone is the son (or rarely daughter) of one of the empresses. But our mothers don't give us any gift other than life (and after such a gift, what more could they be expected to give?!) Our relationships with them are like your relationships with... your saints, or gods. Or kings, maybe. We owe our allegiance to them, we pray for their favour. That is all.”
Sarah was really starting to like what she heard. These 'empresses' were treated like Gods. And all she had to do was be a woman, or rather, a cat woman. Looking down at the furry slopes of her body, her jiggling bosom's, rounded tummy, rocking hips (which had escaped her mental restraint) and flicking tail she could quite decisively say she was a cat woman.
“Now...” Sarah said, strolling over to the bed. She flexed her muscles running down her torso and caused the flimsy garments to pop off and leave her furry and naked, “We have this bed... and nothing to do...”


A short hour later Sarah lay beside her newest lover, who was snoring loudly, collapsed after his extreme exertion. Sarah's groin felt as if it was swimming with seed, and she found it uncomfortable to move. Yet the instinctual desire to move on gripped her as powerfully as her libido. With the promise of a luxury lifestyle awaiting her in Rah Kamen she could do nothing but proceed. And something more lead her... a new scent lying thin in the air.

Slipping out of bed she waddled over to the wardrobe, which the cat had placed his whole range (three pairs) of ill-fitting shorts in. She yanked one up over her hips and found them better fitting than her burst rags. However, as the fabric cupped her belly she realised she was hungry again. Spying the cat's purse she withdrew a few coins to grab some food before she left then realised that her weighty endowments still bounced free of a garment. Thinking quickly she flashed her claws and grabbed the sheet and sliced a length of it off. Slinging it around her mammeries she tied the two ends together into a knot between them. She smiled as she admired her handiwork. It was comfortable, and durable to last until she left the town.

And so, with a roasting leg of lamb in hand (which she purchased on her way out of the inn) Sarah set out, at a slow waddle, over the dusty stretch towards Rah Kamen and the lingering scent in the desert.
May 26, 2018 6:08 pm
Liked by preggolovah (May 26, 2018)
JBowman_uk Offline
Junior Member

Posts: 25
Joined: Sep 2013
Reputation: 25
Post: #5
RE: Looking for a fantasy story
Chapter 6:

Sarah waddled through the dessert, running her paws through the thin fur of her belly. Since the morning it had expanded, almost magically, rounding out, dropping slightly, and forcing her legs further apart. She had to heave her spine back to counter-balance the immense weight of her new centre of gravity. Her wide buttocks and tail would have done well to counter-balance her belly, if they themselves weren't using all their power to balance the weight of her heavy endowments. With every waddling step they jiggled and spurted out a few more drops of golden colostrum.

There was no denying it now, she was pregnant. How pregnant, she couldn't be sure. Technically less than a week. And although her belly looked full term for a human, she had indeed gorged herself, and so it could be fat. However, she knew it wasn't, as she could feel the various lifeforms wriggling inside of her. It sent ripples of sexual pleasure through her.

Part of her was still appalled at her obvious pregnancy, but in all honesty, that part of her was exhausted. In the past week she had been appalled that she had lost her virginity, appalled that her pubic hair was growing at a stupendous rate, appalled that she was eating so much, appalled that she had become a cat woman, appalled that she was having sex with her friends, appalled at the way she was ravenously eating, and appalled at the fact she was stealing. By the time she accepted her newfound pregnancy she was too tired of being appalled to care that much.

Under the sleepy heat of the sun her dazed and dreamy state had developed even further. She felt bored and tired. She just wanted to go home, and rest, half-expecting that if she did she would wake up human again. She knew this wasn't the case. But she didn't care that much, it didn't seem to matter that she'd wake up as a gargantuan cat woman. Of course, she had no idea how in such a scenario she'd support her self (financially... although if she kept growing at this rate she would have to consider how to support herself physically), or the children waiting to escape the confines of her womb, but dreams aren't much for planning.

What had happened through the rest of the day was hard for her to remember afterwards. It felt like she had been sleep walking, all that eating, thieving, fucking, it didn't seem real. Her first vivid memory, was one of relief, as, a few yards outside of town her shorts gave a few pathetic pops as their seems split, and then exploded off her, followed shortly by the removal of her makeshift top. Even that memory was fading fast though, melted by the dessert sun and the overpowering nostalgia of an aroma that slowly drew closer.

When it was late afternoon, and the sun hung low in the sky behind her. Her own shadow stretched out in front of her. She had paused once or twice, to drowsily turn and survey her transformed shadow stretched out before her. It was rather impressive, a full two metres in width, from the tip of her tail to the front of her belly. She was almost proud of her growth.

Despite how long she had been walking, and the heat, Sarah wasn't actually feeling that bad. Her legs did not fall into their new stance uncomfortably. Nor did her padded feet find the sand harsh, but smooth against her souls, which never tired or grew sore. The sun didn't make her sweat, but her fur was a brilliant roasted temperature that made her feel happy and warm. The warmth made her sleepy, as did the scent, now close enough almost for her to reach out and touch, and as such she was desensitised to whatever pains there were about her.

Her eyes were half closed, and her jaw trailing low in a yawn when she found it, the source of the smell. It looked- and indeed it was, a stick, or a pole, protruding from a dip in the sand. Yet from the smell pouring out of it, Sarah knew it was more. The smell of fur, of sex, or her, or at least, what she had been, permeated the sand and wafted powerfully outwards, but were all intermixed with the heavy scent of blood.

Clutching the stick in her hands, extending her claws just enough to dig into the rough timber to grip it. With a firm hold, she wrenched it out of the sand. A great length more stick, all straight and hard, was produced, but finally she pulled the base clear of the sand, and held in her hands a long spear with an elaborate hooked blade at the end. Hanging from the blade was the limp, skinny corpse that could be mistaken for none but Cyra. Even though his skin seemed to be thinned to the bone, and his eyes were dull and colourless, and even in death, a look of horror crossed his once playful face. His blood was dry and caked around his furry chest where the spear impaled him. It was like rust coating him.

With a cool and calm attitude that she may have been disgusted by at some other point, but she would inevitably attribute to her sleepy state, she pulled the spear in closer to her until she clutched the metal hook. Then she snapped off the pole and discarded it, and with equal ease and disregard, she pulled the limp body of Cyra from the hook and tossed him aside. She examined the symbol on the blade, the coat of arms. It was a chip of jade within a circle. It didn't take a genius to determine it was the symbol of Green Haven.

With a sigh her weary gaze returned to the remains of Cyra. His scrawny body looked pathetic now that it was dead. Several of Sarah's “passengers” began to kick violently at the sight of him. She was reminded of the pleasure he had brought her, and not just on that night, but in the week following, the guilty thrills earned by her transformation. She give another sigh, this one quivering substantially more, and thrust his body into the sand. She took the pike's pole and snapped it in two. She thrust one end into the sand, over Cyra's invisible resting place, and then sliced off a thin length of hair from her head. She spun it into a spiral and coiled it round the second stick like a rope, and then lashed it to the other stick to form a cross.

The cross was a strong symbol to her faith- her former faith at any rate. She didn't much believe in it anymore, but she felt that he deserved some sort of grave stone, and didn't know any other religious symbols or rights. With a single, bitter tear, she left, strolling aimlessly off in search of that one thing that remained for her to do; reach paradise.

Before long her half-closed eyes caught sight of Rah Kamen, as she came over a tall dune, and it took her breath away. In an instant her eyes ripped open to take in the full shape of the city. It was colossal. Whether it was built on a hill, or was in itself, a giant towering fort, she couldn't tell, but it was definitely shaped like a large hill, its amber walls climbing upwards. It was bigger than any city Sarah had ever seen (although that wasn't saying much.) All the buildings around the outskirts were cubes of yellow stone, flat roofs, flat bland walls punctuated only by the occasional black square hole for a wall or a door. As she looked up the gentle slope of its structure she saw the streets, running like tributaries down from the top of the hill. Around the base these buildings seemed to blend with the dessert, definitely the boundary between the sand and the structures was blurred, they seemed to be hewn entirely of sand, as if grown naturally from the dessert. There were more of the cubes, but also more than one grand stadium, each bigger than the town she had just left. Intermixed with these were tall towers of shining white marble, topped up with wonderful purple domes that seemed to be lined with gold and precious jewels. Around the very top of the city was a tall grey stone wall. Beyond that there were a variety of different tall buildings, each more splendorous than the last. One in particular caught her interest, it looked like a tall thin marble pyramid, only it was coiled. The base (or what she thought was the base) was a normal, although thin, pyramid, which stretched out and then lent to the side more and more, eventually twisting round back on itself. Other buildings were equally amazing. Giant golden spheres, seemingly suspended in mid air, beside giant crimson spikes jabbed through each other with electrical energy jumping between them. It really was something to behold.

Sarah eagrely wandered towards the outskirts, seeing a few figures lingering there. Looking further up into the city she saw the streets flowing like streams of quicksand, thick with cats traveling to and fro about the city. However, the people seemed to flow from the city's peak, and the lower down she looked the thinner the crowd was. When she came close to the outskirts she realised that the figures she saw (and was sub-consciously approaching) were children.

They were interesting to her, in their variations. They were all, clearly, cat-men, but no two (well... there were only five of them, but they differed from herself, and the two cat men she had known intimately) were exactly the same. Four were golden ginger, in the colour of their fur, and one was jet black, where he had fur. Between them they had all the features of a cat, claws, tails, whiskers, fangs, but intermixed between them were probably the aspects to make one completely 'human' child. The first, one of the golden gingers, had bare, tanned arms, but his hands were furred, as if he wore gloves. His face was completely human, but the rest of him was covered in fur. He had no tail, and his feet weren't padded or clawed, they looked exactly like human feet covered in fur. He was naked, as were they all, with the exception of the black cat, who wore a pair of dirty looking shorts above his bald legs and beaten up boots. He chest and arms was covered with thick black fur, and his hands were colossal, each thick finger sporting a hooked nail that looked strong enough to cut through steel. He had whiskers, fangs and a cat nose, but his face was mostly bald, except for his chin and the sides, which gave him the comical appearance of having a thin beard and side burns. The third child was completely human in shape, but covered completely in fur, also. He had no whiskers, or fangs, and his ears were human. The fourth child, despite mostly being ginger and blond, had a massive crest of white fur sprouting from the centre of his chest (much like Sarah's, although his was unhindered by breasts), giving him a very heroic appearance. He had cat feet, with similar arched talons to the black cats hands. In his furry, but otherwise human hand, he held a wooden sword. The fifth child was easily the most interesting and bizarre, for he stood on all fours like a cat. His back-legs were short and bent, which seemed to be the reason for his stance. He was covered in thick fur, but his face had very thin fur, and was human in shape. As Sarah approached he reared up on his hind legs and stood, although was still very short, and looked slightly uncomfortable. The stance also revealed more of his nether regions than Sarah thought was polite, even amongst cat man society.

Upon her approach the cats stopped their play and talk immediately. They stood still for a hesitant moment, before the cat who walked on all fours (who had, as mentioned, stood up) dropped back to his paws and scarpered, followed by the others, except the black cat and the white crested cat, who dropped to their knees and waved their hands in praise.

For a few minutes Sarah stood perplexed by her reception. She opened her mouth several times to speak to the children, but was unsure if she wanted to. She didn't want to look stupid. On the one hand, if the cat had been right and she was going to be praised like a god, this would make sense. But if she was wrong... it'd look strange, and arrogant, to ask why some children ran away, while others praised her. So she decided to simply leave them be, although her cheeks were turning a deep hue of red under her fur. After a few minutes of soaking in the silent adoration Sarah looked around, and crept away. The children turned to continue facing her, but never said a thing, always waving their arms up and down in praise. They didn't stop until she was out of sight.

It didn't take long for Sarah to meet more fans, and this time her reception was even warmer. As soon as she turned a corner leading deeper into the city she was besieged by cat men running towards her. Upon seeing her they paused, gasped loudly, and then continued running. The first to reach her grabbed her eagerly and before she could do anything about it, and tossed her onto their shoulders. She marveled at how easily they had handled her weight as she felt the furry hands grip round her legs and their powerful grasp supporting her perfectly. Cheers started to rise up from the crowd, and as they slowly harmonised Sarah could make them out. “Hail to the new mother!” they shouted. Some rang “Long Live the Empress” but they were almost drowned out by the screams of praise for the new matriarch. Sarah was confused, worried, proud and content all at the same time. As the crowd jostled her forwards a guilty smile started to spread over her lips. Gradually she was starting to enjoy this very much.


After several hours of 'crowd surfing' Sarah found herself being carried by four broad shouldered cats inside a litter, which was far softer than any bed she had slept in over the past few weeks. Even softer than her bed at home, she realised. However, shortly she was transferred into even more luxurious accommodation, as she was brought to a fabulous palace in the heart of the town where she was, without any words, placed delicately by a long lavender silk and satin sheeted bed that could accommodate five or six, if it needed to inside a circular pink room. A sweet perfumed scent hung heavily in the air and filled Sarah's nostrils. It was a delicious scent.

As she crawled onto the expansive bed, somewhat tentatively as she was unsure of what she was to do, the doors to the chamber swung open to reveal a rather stunning figure. Standing a full six feet tall, flanked by a small squadron of broad-shouldered cat men, was an immense female cat woman. She was, like Sarah, covered from the tips of her toes to the top of her head (and the tip of her tail) in tiger-strip fur, but her stripes were snowy silver instead of sandy gold- she had the colouration of a snow tigress. Her hair was a beautiful shade of undiluted silver, as if a font of molten metal had been poured into a beautifully intricate mold over her head. It cascaded to her hips, but was caught up in intricate baubles and trinkets, mostly gold. These clasps divided her hair into three segments, one broad ponytail across her back, and two thinner streams of silver hair dangling over her shoulders, between her arms and her healthy endowments. Her fringe hung large above her head, cut in a perfectly straight line just above her eyes. Her legs, though hidden beneath her fur, were clearly brimming with strength, they almost exuded muscle. Her arms were thin, but Sarah could tell that in those wiry limbs great strength slumbered. Her face was like Sarah's, except for the obvious difference in colours. Her obsidian lips concealed her fangs when she entered, but Sarah could see the claws on her feet and on her hands were all extended almost three inches outwards. She was heavily endowed, which wasn't entirely surprising. Her belly hovered ahead of her like a colossal sphere, easily two feet in diameter. Despite its grand scale she carried it easily, walking as if it was filled with helium.

As soon as her feline eyes fell on Sarah her mood changed, and it was obvious from her appearance. Her pupils dilated from thin slits into deep circles, and she flashed her teeth in a wide grin, and Sarah saw her fangs, long, and apparently, extending. Her nails shot back into her fingers and toes. Perhaps most noticeable to Sarah, was the fact that the other cat's nipples shot out from under her fur. They stood out because they were solid black poking out of a white strip of fur. Sarah suddenly became aware of her own nipples, erupting out of her furry chest.

“So, it is true.” the cat grinned. She turned to the male cats standing behind them and gestured for them to leave “I shall call for you when we are ready to depart.” The cats nodded and walked away. The doors to the chamber swung closed behind them, leaving Sarah alone with the snow-cat. “So...” the cat said again, sauntering over and slowly sat down on a long settee, and spread herself out on it, so that her head rested on a pillow at one end while her legs reached the opposite arm rest. She delicately encircled a foot stool with her tail and easily yanked it across the floor until it sat beside her, providing a place to rest her colossal belly, which protruded from the settee's surface. She smiled, again. “What's your name?”
“Sarah Rayn...” she answered, “Wha...” she mumbled. She was unsure what question to ask first. “What happened to me?”
“How rude.” the white cat pouted jovially, “It is common courtesy to ask me my name. But since you're being so crude, I shall tell you it anyway. I am the Nal Empress of Rah Kamen, Laiirah. And your answer was also terrible. You shall henceforth refer to yourself as 'The Vai Empress of Rah Kamen, Sarah.”
Sarah, slightly vexed by the woman's arrogant reply, retorted, “What about Rayn? What about my surname?”
“Surname?” Laiirah scoffed, “Oh, yes, Surname. You shan't need one. There are only eight women in the entire city, and none of them are called Sarah, so there's no risk of overlap. Your name will simply suffice, although it is the surname of all your children.”
“Children?” Sarah raised an eyebrow.
Laiirah laughed, “Well, that's not fat your sporting there, dear.”
“Enough!” Sarah growled, “Tell me! What in blazes has happened to me?!”
“As you wish.” The empress smiled. She was obviously deriving immense enjoyment from this, “You have Ascended, as simple as that.” Sarah frowned in reply, so the empress continued. “I trust you slept with Cyra?”
“... Yes.” Sarah confessed.
“Well, then, hmm, wait, lets see... that's not the best place to start. You see, here in Rah Kamen, we have a terrible population problem. Females are rarely born here. Hardly once a century. Only eight women, at most times. Naturally our superiority brings us to the top of society, and we rule. Eight Empresses. Oh, yes, “Nal” and “Vai”, they're just little old words for five and eight, in case you're wondering. Very dignified. Anyway, it happened that, several months ago your predecessor, Raynala, died. And sadly there was no female to replace her, so we had to take rather dire measures to restore our population. Cyra, her last son, was, to a certain degree, against his will, given a special potion. We did not tell him what it did, but simply let him wander, the fool never had much taste for Rah Kamen. He said he didn't like sleeping with cat girls. Hah! Anyway, it seemed our little plan worked like a charm.” she paused, taking in Sarah's mood, “The first woman he slept with, you, was transformed into a cat woman.”
“And...” Sarah rubbed her belly angrily.
“And... what?” Laiirah asked.
“And this.” Sarah snarled, pointing at her belly.
“... what?” Laiirah raised her eyebrow, “You're just pregnant. It's not like the potion had anything to do with it.”
“Pregnant?!” Sarah spat, “I lost my virginity less than a week ago! Look at me! I'm colossal!”
“You're just a little virile.” Laiirah shrugged, “Just like... first heat.” then she gave her a wicked grin, “I bet you've been horny as hell recently.”
Sarah blushed beneath her fur. “N... Never Mind That!” she snarled again. “What... what...” she struggled. She was running out of questions. “What will become of me now?”
“Isn't that obvious?” Laiirah said, lazily. “You are the Vai Empress. You are now free to live out your days here in Rah Kamen in the lap of luxury.”
“Don't I have any responsibilities?” Sarah said, wearily.
“Well, to keep having children.” Laiirah shrugged.
“What?” Sarah frowned.
“Children. Babies.” Laiirah patted her own mountainous belly. “Got to keep the population up.”
“Wait... how rare are females?” Sarah raised an eyebrow.
“Hard to say. One in a thousand. Maybe less.” Laiirah shrugged again.
“But then... I'd have to have over a thousand children just to find my replacement!” Sarah exclaimed, “Even if I kept pumping out babies into my fifties I'd have to have forty a year!”
“Oh, oh of course...” Laiirah said, standing up, as if realising something, “I'm completely forgetting...”
“Forgetting what?” Sarah said, also standing, although she was unsure why.
“Well, well, it's a long story. I'll just have to summon the other Empresses first.” Laiirah made her way to the doors and cast them open. She commanded her servants with points and waves of her fingers, “Send messengers to the other empresses, we must gather at the ancestral temple. And bring us a litter, we must travel there hastily.”
“What? What must we do?” Sarah asked, striding towards the other empress.
“Ah, my dear, can you picture it? Being as you are now, forever?” Laiirah sent her hands into Sarah's fur, caressing the various curves of her full figure.
“What do you m-mean?” Sarah asked, with a shudder of pleasure.
“Immortality.” Laiirah smiled.
“Impossible!” Sarah took a step back, out of range of her probing hands.
“Perfectly possible. I am over seven hundred years old, but do I look a day over twenty?” Laiirah smiled, “All the empresses are.”
“Then... how did my predecessor die?” Sarah frowned.
“Ah, yes, the one condition of our longevity. We can live forever, so long as we remain pregnant. If for a moment we are without even a trace of child, our immortality shall cease. Sadly Raynala found it too pressing to remain pregnant.” Laiirah explained.
“That's impossible... you'd have to at least give birth to get pregnant again...” Sarah shook her head.
“What a strange thing to say.” Laiirah frowned, “Oh, of course, you're- you were, human. Measly little creatures... Well, anyway, none of this, this humanity. No need to give birth before getting another pregnancy. We continue to, what's the word...? 'Ovulate', during pregnancy. Pretty often, especially when we're as virulent as you. Maybe every day?”
At that moment Sarah felt something move inside her swollen womb. Somethings. She thought back over the past few days. Three lovers, well, three male lovers. Inside her their progeny were writhing around. She blushed, invisibly, beneath her fur.
“Wh... when will I give birth to my first... 'litter'.” she whispered.
“Term is three months. Anything conceived within about of a week of each other then ought to come out.” Laiirah shrugged. Their litter arrived, another, wider, bed with four posts sticking out for the servants to carry it. This one actually had a small roof, and curtains, so that, if they wanted, they could conceal themselves completely within. Laiirah easily slipped in, while Sarah crawled, awkwardly, in behind her.
“A few rules...” Laiirah said, as they were carried off, “Never sleep with your children. I know it might be hard to check sometimes, but after a while you'll be able to smell it. That's the only ironclad rule. We have sort of... minor rules. Like a scoring system.” Laiirah giggled, “It's a bit like a game. Anyway, the rules of the game are, don't sleep with the same person twice, and don't sleep with other cat men. I suppose you can if you must, but it's a bit gosh. And...” she said in a hushed voice, “I'm not advising it, but we're compatible with big cats.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.
“Lions... Tigers... Ligers.” Laiirah shrugged, “Raynala was rumoured to have conceived several sons by the latter. She, apparently, got into a fix where she was nearly going to give birth and hadn't been impregnated again. She was always cutting it close. That's why she ended up buying it.”
“Couldn't she just get pregnant again?” Sarah asked.
“No. She would have to have the potion again to re-induce her immortality, and that is not allowed.” Laiirah explained, “You see, it takes centuries and centuries, over a thousand years, in fact, for us to make one dose of the potion. As such we only allow it once per Empress. So you better now screw up, otherwise you won't be living very long at all.”
Sarah gulped. She suddenly felt hard-put to live up to her new expectations of promiscuity.


They arrived, less than an hour later, at the temple. Laiirah had, by this time, explained to Sarah all about the ceremony, and enough about cat-man society, and the other empresses. She was greeted warmly by the six other cats, each grand and huge, although there was a wide variety of colours between them. A solid black cat, with a wide pearly grin, was the first to greet her. Her colour belied her personality though, as the first words out of her lips were, “I'd give you a hug, but that's obviously easier said than done.” which was followed by a giggle. The rest varied from dark and mysterious to so friendly that Sarah started to get the distinct idea that she was coming on to her.

The ceremony itself was actually remarkably simple. The other empresses seemed to be there simply as a formality. They stood, with their expressions, all happy, whether genuine or forced, in two lines of three along the pathway through the centre of the chamber. The first empress, or the “Un” empress, as she was called, stood at the end, holding the ornate round bottle holding the elixir within. It was an ancient, stone bottle, imbued with hundreds of runes.

“You never said what it was.” Sarah hissed to Laiirah as the 'ceremony' started.
“Never mind that now.” Laiirah whispered. “Time to go.”
“Come forth, Sarah, Vaii Empress. Come forth and seize your destiny!” bellowed the Un empress.

Sarah walked slowly, and tentatively forwards. As she passed each empress they bowed as deeply as they could, with their rotund bellies. Sarah waddled forward, to the dais where the last empress awaited her. She stopped there, standing, waiting for approval. Finally, the empress thrust the bottle towards her and said;

“Drink deeply young empress, and realise your fate!”

Sarah didn't need to be told twice, she was starting to feel hungry again, and hand in hand with hunger went thirst. She took the bottle as gently as she could, mustering all her self control, but as soon as it was in her hands she took a greedy swig. A cool sweet liquid spilled out between her lips and down her throat. It was thick, and bore a distinct similarity to milk, but much, much sweeter. Sarah didn't so much want to taste as just to be filled by it. Every drop felt like heaven in her throat. She had only planned to drink a small portion of the bottle, but before she knew it she had sucked it dry. She removed it from her lips and burped. She handed it back to the Un empress, who was grinning. Sarah's hand instinctively went to her belly to massage it. She found it oddly different. Looking down she discovered that she was even bigger than before, although she didn't think it was possible. Two and a half feet, in diameter, she guessed, if Laiirah had been two feet. Her breasts, too had swollen to the size of small cantaloupes. Her nipples were sticking out like sore thumbs.

“Nice.” Laiirah smiled, patting Sarah on the back. She didn't apply much force, but it still sent vibrations through her chest, causing her fat endowments to jiggle and their milky contents slosh about inside. It was an odd sensation, but strangely pleasurable to Sarah.
With the ceremony completed all the empresses seemed to have relaxed. There were many compliments, cheers, pats and rubs in various different places (and a pinch or two that made her jump), that made her start to feel very welcome.

“Hey, we can't stand around here all day.” one of the empresses pouted.
“Indeed, I'd like to get a seat.” the Un Empress said with a low growl behind her voice.
“Lets move this party back to one of our new member's palaces.” The ebony cat suggested, running her arms around Sarah's neck from behind (a rather difficult affair, as she had to bend to get near her, without being blocked by hero own stomach.)
“One?” Sarah asked, the image of the one mere room she had been in so far. A smile spread across her face, “I have a funny feeling I'm going to like being an empress.”


Within moments she was back in the luxurious sedan with Laiirah (she felt most comfortable with her, and still had some questions she wanted to ask.) She was slightly embarrassed that it took eighteen broad chested cat men to carry them together, but Laiirah told her to be proud. Indeed, the males did seem to be ecstatic about their duty. Both empresses lay on their sides, with their bellies pointing outwards out of the sedan, allowing the (relavitely) cool outer air pass over their furry hides.

“Aah, this is the life...” Sarah purred.
“Hahah, I knew you'd like it.” Laiirah responded.
“Oh, you didn't tell me what the potion was...” Sarah said, trailling off.
“Neither I did... well, you'll have to find out sooner or later. It's milk.” she said, simply.
“Milk?” Sarah said, raising her eyebrow and turning her head round to look at Laiirah.
“From here.” Laiirah adeptly slid a hand round and cupped (although her hands could hardly “cup” anything so large completely) one of Sarah's breasts, sending waves of pleasure vibrating through the tender flesh. Sarah shuddered. “Of course it's not just that simple. We have to use gallons and gallons of our milk refined over and over again to make just one potion, and it involves other ingredients too, but primarily milk. Colostrum is better still.”
“Colostrum?”Sarah asked, quizically.
“What you're full of.” Laiirah said, poking Sarah stoutly in the breast. She gave a squeal of surprise, pain, and pleasure, and then a long drawn out sigh of the latter. Laiirah held her hand out before Sarah. Her fingers had picked up some golden transparent liquid. She pulled her arm back to her own head, and lapped up the juice rabidly. Once she was done she panted, “Pre-milk. You only make it for a few months when you're first pregnant. After that it's milk all the way... But colostrum's a little different. Better for us, really.”
“So, wait, we use our own milk?” Sarah asked again.
“That's what I'm saying. You'll probably get pumped (excuse the term) today or tomorrow.”
Sarah suddenly saw herself bending over and being milked like a cow. Worryingly she was aroused by this, the idea of someone squeezing greedy handfuls of liquid from her over-ripe bosom. “Who does it?”
“Depends who you want. If we're having fun Laiirah grinned we'll do it to each other- that's the empresses. If we still want to have fun, but there are no other emrpesses around, we can just do it ourselves. You could get a male to do it if you wanted, or perhaps, a suitor.”
“Could...” Sarah's voice at once became quiet and sheepish, “Could you do me?”
“Now?” Laiirah said with an unseen kinky grin.
“No! Well...” Sarah's chest fluttered wuith the memory of that sensation, when Laiirah touched her, “Well, when it needs done, I mean. If 'the sooner the better' then maybe...”
“I suppose we should wait. If it's just me I'we get gweedy and dwink it.” she said with her fingers in her mouth. She let out a long sigh of relief, like someone relaxing after traveling for months.
“Is it that good?” Sarah asked, catching a droplet of the golden liquid from her nipple.
“More than good. Magical- seriously. Purified it grants us our immortality, but impure it can have dramatically different effects.” she rubbed her belly, “It can make unborn children grow, or even- if you drink enough- impregnate someone else. Enough of this and you could make a normal human woman conceive and give birth in less than an hour.”
Something nagged at the back of Sarah's mind, some distant realisation, but she ignored it. Laiirah went on.
“I don't know what happens if you drink your own, but it's forbidden, so I wouldn't. It can be dangerous, drinking from others. Fifty years after I ascended another empress wanted to conceive my children from drinking from me. I didn't care about the children, but it sounded kinky.” she said, with a giggle, “But... she got greedy. She wouldn't stop... I didn't think I had that much in me... but she just kept growing, and growing until her sides split... literally.”
Sarah gasped in horror, and slapped her hands over her mouth. She pictured the hugely obese mass of stretched fur, and a greedy maw chewing at Laiirah's chest.
“From her corpse many kittens were born. One was female, so the event was looked on more kindly by the other empresses. If it wasn't for that female, I might have been exiled... As it was they understood that I couldn't do anything to stop that gluttony...” Laiirah's voice had taken on a grave, regretful tone.
Sarah was still gripped by the horror of it all. She felt bile creeping up her throat and threatening to burst forth. She clasped her hands more tightly over her mouth, allowing her claws to cut in, as if blocking her mouth from the death-bringing milk.
“But don't worry though, that was only once in hundreds and hundreds of years. Since then I've had children with some of the other empresses. It's weird, but kind of fun.” she grinned, out of sight.
“She...” Sarah said, in a choking voice.
“Hm?” Laiirah asked, turning back slightly to face her companion.
“Which empress was she?” she asked, “Her... your... daughter.”
“Oh, yes, she's the Len Empress, that is, the seventh, just one rung higher than you. I named her after her mother, Alasch, roughly, her mother's name backwards. She's the tallest empress, silver fur...” she gestured with her hand.
“Oh, yes...” Sarah nodded. She remembered the tall, silent figure.
“She's a bit solemn.” Laiirah explained. “Ah, finally.” she said, as the litter came to a hault, “All this talk makes me thirsty.” she grinned, and slipped off the sedan gracefully. Sarah descended rather awkwardly, but into the awaiting arms of several attendants, and was shortly on her feet, stumbling towards the other empress.
“Tsk, look at that, you're dribbling all over...” Laiirah said, running her hand through the fur under Sarah's nipples, “You can't waste this you know?” she said, gesturing the golden moisture on her fingers. She licked them, lustfully.

Sarah was surprised when she heard a splash of water, as the last thing you heard in the middle of a desert was someone dropping water. However, in the corner of her eyes she saw the source. A small puddle had formed beneath Laiirah, and her thighs were damp. Her water had broken.

“Heheh, I told you I'd get too greedy.” Laiirah laughed, rubbing her rippling belly.

Chapter 7:

The flesh of Laiirah's distended belly began to ripple and pulsate with mysterious inner growths. Sarah looked on in horror as various different bumps and lumps erupted from her already overgrown middle, before sinking back into the hive of fur and flesh. Sarah though, somehow, that she could make out the shapes of the limbs and features bubbling near the surface, as if she could point out the individual mounds and lumps as arms, legs, and heads. Her own stomach gurgled forebodingly. Was this to become of her?

“Well don't just stand there gawking!” Laiirah laughed, “Come on, I haven't got all day...” she snapped her fingers and spoke to the cat-men attendants “Summon Jaina to the birthing chamber immediately.” and with that she strode off into the palace, although there was a visible change to her stride- an awkwardness between her legs.

Sarah followed, sprinting on two legs at first and immediately over exerting herself, and then slowing to a quick, still two-legged walk, rubbing the small of her back with remorse. Behind her two cat-men followed, careful to keep behind the slow pace of their empresses. If she hadn't been so concerned for Laiirah, and for her own uncomfortable body, Sarah would have been marveling at the intricate beauty of the palace- her palace. Intricate marble hallways lined with gilded statues of cat woman, predictably swollen and obviously pregnant. There were statues of male cats- obviously great feline war heroes and suchlike, depicted holding the heads of their defeated foes, or suchlike, and a few paintings of heroic battles were hung here and there, but the overwhelming theme was pregnant cat women.

Laiirah lead her through the maze like corridors of the palace, round so many corners, through so many doors, up and down so many staircases that Sarah was beginning to wonder if they were walking in circles or not. But finally, she waddled (her stride had gradually become more and more awkward as her legs spread more and more until she finally broke into a full-fledged waddle, and from there started to bend backwards inadvertently, as if she were limboing.) towards a towering oak door. At this point the two male cats rushed forwards and pushed the heavy doors aside.

The chamber she had came to was a shallow room that made up its volume in height; the walls stretched upwards towards a domed ceiling. Much like the rest of the palace, it was hewn of plain marble, the walls punctuated only by the dark seems in the otherwise white material. There were no statues or mosaics to beautify the chamber, indeed, Sarah thought it possible the most barren room she had yet seen, but she did notice, after a few moments, one show of grandeur; a great mural painted on the dome, depicting an empress, or perhaps a goddess, surrounded by the myriad ranks of her offspring. The base of her gravid belly and her crotch were left out of the mural- a hole cut there in the dome, allowing light to pour into the pearly chamber, bathing it in an almost holy light that seemed to flow from her womb. Underneath it was painted the banner of the cat men, written in their feline language- meaning “In matriarch we trust”. Sarah, however, couldn’t even understand the feline alphabet, let alone the words.

The ‘furniture’ in the room was just as plain and nondescript as the walls, a few pedestals sprung from the ground like pillars, cut off just bellow waist height to become low seats, but without anything but the cold marble to cushion the rear. These were in a semi-circle centred away from the door, and at the edges of the circle the seat-pedestals were replaced with what were obviously stands for equipment, but in a similar style, they grew up in straight pedestals and then bulged out into semi-spheres where the seats stopped, mimicking to some degree the bellies that might be sat upon the seats. The further half of the room was raised, like a tabletop or a stage, with a series of dips in the middle that formed a wide seat. This dip was cushioned, but not in any way you might call lavish- plain white sheets, not as soft or sleek as those Sarah had been privy to earlier, covered them.

Laiirah immediately waddled over to this 'seat', and the two attending catmen- both slight ginger furred creatures, with no claws, gently lifter her onto these cushions and then stepped back, as she set her back against the far wall, sighing, and spreading her legs over the deepest dip in the counter-like raise, a small ‘basin’ within the marble. Laiirahs’s snowy fur had parted between her legs, revealing her deep red sex, widening already. Her tail towered in the air behind her, flickering angrily.

“Not long now...” Laiirah smiled, rubbing her thighs and tugging at the flesh around her mons, letting the engorged slit spread a little more.
“Eh...” Sarah said, her anxiety becoming obvious immediately in her almost neurotic voice. She was panting, and staring at Laiirah with a bizarre look, “Not long...?! I thought it took... hours...”
“Ah, so human of you. How long will it take for me to teach you how to forget, eh?” Laiirah giggled, “No, it doesn’t take us long at all. It doesn’t hurt much either. Ooh!” she squealed, rubbing her pulsating belly, “They’re restless.”
“Sorry, this is a little...” Sarah wheezed, “Weird.” She stepped backwards quickly until she was on the opposite wall, her eyes fixed firmly on the ground. Laiirah shrugged.

Before an awkward silence could break out, footsteps echoed through the palace’s hallways towards the chamber. It took Sarah a few minutes to realise what she found unusual about the footsteps, but it eventually dawned to her that they came from shoes- not the padded feet of a cat. Honing in on the sound she started to notice a scent she had been ignoring, the stale, restrained smell of a human- the kind she once had been, but had now almost forgotten, covered by thick and ineffective perfume.

“Ah, Jaina.” Laiirah said, sniffing at the air and leaning further back, spreading herself even wider.

The source of the footsteps finally appeared in the doorway to the chamber. Despite the thick and obscuring white robes guarding the image of the newcomer’s figure, Sarah’s combined and augmented senses almost yielded ‘X Ray’ vision, as she could clearly picture her skinny, pink frame, red all over with sweat and embarrassment, vainly covered by perfume. Her hair, sprouting out from her head and dragged into the collar of her robe, was raven-black, gleaming in the immaculate hall’s light. Her face was shy, crimson cheeks bellow a damp, crimson brow, fretting and worrying, hiding the beauty of her dark lashes and deep brown eyes. Here eyebrows where thin, as were her lips. Over her shoulders towels had been tossed, in one hand she carried a bronze pot of steaming water, the other, a small sack of tools. Sarah’s eyes caught on the metal instruments protruding from the back. They sent a shudder down her belly.

“Empress...” Jaina bowed. “Ah... empress!” she said, as she turned and took in Sarah, blushing, and bowing a second time, “I mean... new empress...” she said, flustering, “I do not mean disrespect...” she stuttered, in reference to her confusion.
“Don’t worry, I’m new to it myself.” Sarah said dully.
“Ah.” Jaina nodded. She immediately returned to her duty, handing the bag of tools to one attendant, who placed it on a pedestal, tossing the towels to another and then emptying the water into the basin bellow Laiirah’s hips.
“How many this month, empress?” Jaina added in an almost formal tone.
“Ooh...” Laiirah ran a hand over her belly, “I think two, or three. A light month.”
Jaina nodded, silently.
“Heheh, still chaste, eh?” Laiirah said, swiftly running her arm through the robes of her attendant and clutching at her groin.
“Empress!” Jaina squealed, recoiling.
“Ach. You’ll get to know the joys of a full womb sooner or later.” Laiirah said, slothfully, then, turning her head to Laiirah; “We get a lot of human women as our attendants here in Rah Kamen... a woman’s touch really is best for these things, you know? But anyway, one way or another they end up pregnant.”
“I don’t intend to get myself knocked up any time soon. No offense, empresses” Jaina nodded. Sarah noticed that her confidence had increased since she entered.
“They all say that.” Laiirah grinned.
“I’m sure.” Jaina said, simply.
“Since there are only us eight cat women in the city, and we pretty much never sleep with the men (not to mention the fact that any eighth of them will be our sons), they go wild for any human women that show up,” Laiirah said, once more talking to Sarah, “They can only resist those hundreds of men for so long.”
“You’re fully dilated.” Jaina said, deadpan, and was promptly handed some of her tools by one of the attendants. Fully exposed in the light they seemed less sinister to Sarah. She was still amazed when she glanced up to Laiirah, and saw a gaping red hole now drawn open between her legs. Despite this Laiirah remained cool and calm.
“Since they're always getting pregnant and, for some reason, quitting, we have to keep getting new women in to replace them as our maidservants.” Laiirah explained, “Maybe it would be simpler to get them neutered... but I don't know. Sometimes I like to see little viwgins wike Jaina stwuggwing so hawd to stay pure, then getting all lovely and pwegnant like us...” Laiirah laughed, pouting.
“Who do you think the father was this time?” Jaina said, hunching over Laiirah, and ignoring her comments.
“Ah, the high elven ambassador...” Laiirah said, with a nostalgic smile, “Skinny, bony, full of inhibitions...” she giggled, “He almost fainted. Ach, I hope his sons aren’t too measly.”
“Just the one, this time?” Jaina said, raising an eyebrow.
“Well...” Laiirah smiled again, “There was his attendant.”
“But all elves, eh?” Jaina asked. Laiirah nodded. “I expect we’ll never know which father it is, then.”
“Oh!” Laiirah moaned, “I think it’s time.”

Sarah turned her eyes away, still disturbed by the whole affair. She had never born witness to a birth before, but more than one woman had died or miscarried in her hometown, one of them her mother. It was to be treated with solemnity; a balance of hope and fear. Laiirah started to moan faintly, but as she noticed Sarah’s regard, she deliberately intensified her groans. Jaina, out of Sarah’s sight, cringed, as Laiirah tried to mimic the sounds of fornication.

After several awkward moments (or awkward for Sarah and Jaina, at any rate), Laiirah’s groaning was overpowered by the squeals of her offspring. Sarah glanced up to see the newborn- apparently only the first of several, looking only like an indistinct wet blob of white and black fur, forming tiny limbs and features. Its only particularly notable feature was its long protruding ears that stuck out, easily as long as its arms or legs. Sarah was shocked (and comforted, considering she herself would be giving birth to hundreds of similar beings in the decades and centuries to come) to realise that the cat-children were much smaller than human babies, really only the size of kittens. That explained, Sarah thought, why the births were so much easier, and also how many children could fit in one bump. Jaina washed if off in the stone basin (the water was now pink with the spilled fluids of Laiirah, but still warm and good enough to clean off the child before handing it to one of the catmen, who wrapped it gently in a towel and set it down, while Jaina moved to recieve the next.

Sarah clasped her head in her hands and wheezed. Her eyes widened and squinted, as the air became inexplicably coloured by tiny particles fluttering around her face. With one rasping breath she thought she could feel every dust molecule scrape against her throat. Her nose recoiled into her face in horror, as she began to imagine something- something she thought she could taste on the air- tiny particles of blood, saturating her breath.

Shortly Laiirah had produced two more similar fur-balls, and gave a weak sigh, apparently of dissapointment.

“Only three after all.” she declared, slowly bringing her legs back together. “Lets see them.”

Sarah slowly panted for several minutes and managed to beat a recovery. Balling her hands into fists, she strolled over to look upon the newborns too, now that the chilling birth was complete. They were, predictably, all male. They mewed and cried quietly, and writhed around blindly on their towels, in search of some comfort, some information. They were given little, instead their mother inspected them dispassionately.

“Elves alright... look at those ears... Ch!” she said, flicking one of the kitten’s elongated ears, oversized even by cat standards. It mewed meakly in response. “Buuut...” she said, running a finger through the third’s fur, “This one looks like something.”

It was almost completely black, thin silver lines, like threads, the only break in this colouration. Even for a baby, it looked rather skinny, and its limbs rather long.

“My spies have been dropping like flies of late. But elven blood might yield a lanky frame that I could use. Paired with that obsidian fur...” Laiirah lifted the baby up. It barely filled her hands. “Heheh, observe, Sarah, the power that fills our bosoms.” She put the tiny creature to her chest and let its minascule lips instinctively find her nipple. They could barely cover the gargantuan growth, and great droplets of the thick white liquid splashed down on the ground, but evidently enough flowed into the child, because an effect was seen, shortly.

The tiny fur-ball started to swell and grow, pushing Laiirah’s hands apart. Its spindly legs spilled out and dangled in the air, its arms stretching out over Laiirah’s hands so that she grasped it under the armpits. Its tail, entirely black but for its silver tip, flailed around whimsically in the air. Though it was the slowest part of the tiny creature to grow, its head did develop. The bare pointy ears were outgrown by the cat’s limbs, but still remained as wide as its growing whiskers. Finally Laiirah removed the child from her teat, hardly fully grown, comparable to a human infant. It opened its eyes, sorrowfully, revealing its great purple irises, like lumps of amethyst set into the obsidian mold of his face.

Sarah, having recovered from her earlier shock, found herself licking her lips now. She immediately stopped, and shook her head to rouse herself from her day-dreamy state.

“Big enough to learn, now.” Laiirah said, handing the child to Jaina, “Give him to the Silver Hand. Tell them that if he progresses well enough he can be sent back for more milk, but warn them that I won’t waste it on a failure. Give the others to the academics.” she said, addressing the cat men, who promptly picked up the other kittens, “They ought to go wild for elve-lettes.”
“Elflings.” Sarah commented, without particular interest.
Laiirah shrugged. “Come, now, we have a party to attend.”
“Are you already...” Sarah trailed off. She looked at Laiirah.

The empress was still seated on the marble plinth, but her legs were now tightly wedged together. There was still a sliver of red flesh visible, but nothing like what it had been moments ago. Her belly had shrunk considerably, now receeding into her body, instead of standing defiantly outwards. There was still no denying she was pregnant, but wheras before she looked ready to burst, now, in human terms, she looked a fair distance away from giving birth. She stood up, and spent a few moments moving her hips this way and that, testing her flesh. A drop of amniotic fluid dripped out from inside her, but it seemed to signal some sort of end, as her distended sex disappeared behind her fur.

“Yes, just about.” Laiirah smiled.
“That's... incredible...” Sarah said, staring in awe at Laiirah's crotch.
“It's rude to stare.” Laiirah said sarcastically. “It'd be a bit difficult to get pregnant again if we spent months closing up, you know?”
“I suppose so.” Sarah nodded.
“Ooh, I'm so empty...” Laiirah pouted, running her hands up and down the fur of her less rounded belly, “Good thing there'll be some ambassadors tommorrow, I feel so empty...”
“You letch...” Sarah giggled.


Sarah awoke the next morning- or to be strictly speaking accurate- the next afternoon- within a thick cocoon of silk sheets. She rolled around fruitlessly inside for a few minutes before burrowing her way out into the sweet dusty sun-beam that fell on her bed. She sighed and stretched out, letting the golden and black fur on her belly soak up some heat. Her memories of the night before were few and dis-jointed, but she had that sort of warm feeling that insured she had had a good time.

It amazed her, briefly, how her inhibitions had melted under the light of the golden sun. But then, when she thought about it, it was more likely that they were dissolved in the flow of crimson wine and hormones. It was hard to care about anything, when no one looked down on you, and you had immortality, and vast riches, no matter what you did. Her old thoughts lingered on the outskirts of her heart, darting in once or twice to make her fret; “What have I become?!” but such thoughts were quickly drowned out by the sea of contentedness.

After lounging around several more minutes, she caught sight of the large and elaborate mechanical clock at the far side of the room (a true luxury, as she had only seen mechanical clocks attached to towers, before.) and realised it was almost half past one. At that point she 'quickly' rose, gingerly finding her feet and waddling out of her room.

As soon as she was out of the bedroom's doors a dozen cat-men appeared, flanking her on either side, carrying various paraphernalia to pamper her different senses. They also besieged her with questions; “Would her Imperial Majesty like a breakfast now, or perhaps lunch?”, “Shall I summon musicians”, “Or dancers?”, “Would you like the morning's news, your highness?”

She stood dazed for a few moments, amid the barrage of questions. Eventually she turned to one of the cat men, and said;

“Do I have... a throne room? Or a room where I might formally receive guests?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course.” the cat bowed low, “Her Imperial Majesty has one of the finest throne rooms in-”
“Lead me there.” she said, cutting him off, “I was told there were ambassadors coming to the city today, do you know anything of this?”
Another cat answered; “Her Imperial Majesty Laiirah is entertaining the ambassadors from the human nation of the South.”
“Ah.” Sarah said, frowning, “May I see her, or invite her here?”
“Her Majesty the Nal Empress has already suggested that she bring the ambassadors here.” the cat explained.
“Excellent. Err, tell her to um... do so...” Sarah said, trailing off.
“Of course.”


Sarah shortly found herself seated upon her throne- an impressive sculpture of gold and rubies, but nothing on a par to a human thrown, as it was built more to be comfortable than imposing. It was not a chair, but rather a long and wide sofa, which she lay reclined on now. It was perfectly suited to take the weight and shape of her gargantuan bulge, and she spent a long time simply reveling in this fact.

The rest of the chamber was rather impressive too, lush crimson carpeting, marble walls with seams of gold woven into them, large braziers crafted in the shape of spears and tridents lay idle, sunlight pouring through the crystaline lattice of glass in the sealing, which, through an ellaborate series of pulleys, could direct and focus the light anywhere in the room, or simply block it out completely. At the moment it formed a golden pillar over Sarah, in which she basked happily.

She had half a dozen cat men kneeling on either side of her throne, waiting obediently for orders, and also a single human maid who also waited for instruction. Sarah was sadly unaware of what they might do, though, and just sat awkwardly trying to ignore them.

Just as she was beginning to grow board of sitting about, she heard voices beyond the door, and moments later, it creaked open, and one of Sarah's cat-servants declared;

“Her royal majesty the Nal Empress accompanied by the human ambassador and general Zachary Dane.”

And with this Laiirah marched in, side-by side with a human man, behind them, a handful of her cat-servants, and his two attendants, a male and a female human. Laiirah and the general were having a grand time, by the looks of things, she was smiling and talking, while he smiled and laughed in return. By Sarah's guess he was in his mid thirties, he had long black hair combed back over his head, and a small whisper of a beard framing his mouth. He, and his attendants, wore shining green mail, with jutting shoulder pads, from which flowed deep green cloaks. Sarah could see swords upon their hips.

“Ah, Sarah!” Laiirah declared gayly, “Let me introduce my good friend General Dane. He is a great friend of the city... perhaps too good a friend.” she laughed.
“Why, whatever do you mean, milady?” the soldier said, jovially. He and Laiirah were waltzing towards Sarah, but the other cat-men, and the two humans, hung back.
“You know the rules, dear general, of our little games. Only one conception per customer. I would be thoroughly displeased with your arrival, but...” Laiirah grinned, “You have something of good fortune, today. As you may know, one of our more foolish empresses sadly passed away not so long ago, and here is my little apprentice, her replacement.” Laiirah smiled, strolling towards Sarah, and stroking her gently on the head. Sarah looked about in a slightly bemused fashion.
“Eternally pleased to make the acquaintance of an empress.” the general grinned, before bowing, and kissing Sarah's hand, somewhat to her surprise.
“- Charmed!” Sarah said, after a moment of brief hesitation.
“Poor girl's only been an empress for a day.” Laiirah pouted, “And I've taken it upon myself to show her the ropes! But... there's only so much a girl can do. Sometimes, you need a man's help, if you catch my drift.”
“My sword, nay, my body, are at your disposal- empresses.” the general responded, promptly.
Laiirah licked her lips, “Is the same true of your attendant?”
The soldiers laying in wait both kneeled and repeated the general's words.
“Ah, excellent.” Laiirah smiled, “I need another conception...”
“Laiirah!” Sarah hissed, “What's going on?”
“Servants!” Laiirah said, snapping her fingers, “Show these fine soldiers their rooms, so that they might recline for a mid-day fiesta.” she went on, seeming to ignore Sarah. “I shall see you- or at least, your deputy, later, general. I daresay you shall see Sarah later too.”
“Of course, milady.” Dane bowed, and departed with his two leutenants in toe.
“What's going on?” Sarah squealed, as soon as they were alone (except a few cat-men-servants, who Sarah had learned to ignore.)
“Sorry dear, don't you remember?” Laiirah said, tilting her head, “We simply must remain pregnant. Ambassadors are a perfect means of doing so.”
“You mean I'm supposed to...?” Sarah said, with a look of confusion and slight disgust on her face.
“Don't worry, Zachary is, shall we say... well versed, in the ways of the bedroom, particularly with us- that is, heavily pregnant cat woman. I believe he enjoys it.” she grinned, “He's already been around all the other eight empresses, your predecessor included. He'll treat you well, and he's a good way to ease into the routine.”
“Bu-bu...” Sarah said, dumbly.
“Don't tell me you don't want some?” Laiirah said, cupping the base of Sarah's belly.
Sarah gave a mournful sigh. “Yeah, but...” she thought for a few moments, before continuing, “Don't you think I'm big enough already?” she indicated to her grand womb. It was really quite a spectacle- the furry sphere still distantly resembled some curled up cat, but now it would be more of a lynx than a house cat. And a large, fat lynx, at that. She had seen industrial cauldrons smaller than what now hung from her frame.
“You're a little big, true...” Laiirah admitted, rubbing her own modest waist, “You've got a bit of extra fertility to work off. Not to mention your first few might be human-size, not kittens.” that note encouraged a pang of fear in Sarah's heart, but she ignored it, “It's still important to 'keep your hand in' so to speak. This is more like... queueing. You won't really feel anything from this conception really start to grow until you've given birth to a litter or so.”
“Well...” Sarah bit her lip. Her hips were swaying, rolling around on the sofa, she realised. “He- uh... it'll be good?” she blushed, beneath her fur.
“Fantastic.” Laiirah answered.
“Then lets get some action.” Sarah said, with something of a false grin.


“I thank miladies again, for their more than gracious hospitality.” General Dane bowed.
“And we thank you.” Laiirah nodded, “Our nation shall remember your kind donations to our kind.” she said, with another of her somewhat horny grins. Sarah nodded in agreement.
“Ah, and one last thing.” Dane lifted his finger, “Our holy orders who, as you know, are not as keen upon our nation's relations with your great city, have dispatched a small group of holy soldiers to evaluate your practices before they pass judgement onto out their higher-ups.” he explained, then added, “Just thought you might like to know.” The three soldiers then bowed, and turned towards the door, “Oh, and if your soldier doesn't like her offspring, she can feel free to bring them back here, and donate them to one of our guilds.” Laiirah added, “Just so long as she makes sure not to get knocked up on the return visit too.”
Zachary smiled and said “Of course”, bowing, while his two soldiers looked confusedly at one another, and then at the female soldier's waist.” The trailed out with extremely fretful looks on their faces.
Sarah giggled, “Was that poor woman actually pregnant?”
“Quite.” Laiirah nodded, “I had one of my servants romance her, while I was attending to the male soldier. It's quite easy, when you're as old as I am, to tell.” She said, in a nostalgic tone. Then, shaking her head, and emerging from her reverie, she continued; “How did you find Dane?”
“Ah...” Sarah smiled, “I can't believe I nearly missed that.” she rubbed her thighs, “I can't believe I spent so many years without sex at all, for that matter.”
“We all do, we all do.” Laiirah laughed, “But eventually your years with will outnumber your years without. Now, come, I want to look out at something dramatic.”
“Eh?” Sarah said, as she rose from her throne, awkwardly.
“You'll see.”


The best thing Sarah could describe it as was a “peer”, but that wasn't particularly accurate, as there were no ships moored at it (not even air ships), and it wasn't anywhere near the sea. Not to mention it was stories above the rest of the city. The giant stone wall stretched out from the central hill of Rah Kamen to the wall, dividing part of the city, for no reason that she knew of. The top of it, though, was a walkway, like the top of a peer, from which you could see out across the whole desert.

It was quite something, to see in the same blink, the ruby mountains towering in one direction, while the emerald forests gave way to the sapphire ocean in another, and around it all, the deep, gold, unquestionable desert. When she had trekked through it, Sarah thought it was solid and unchanging, but from this great height, it rippled and wave with the gentle breeze, like a second sea, or a silk sheet, buffeted by tender winds. The sand didn't reach their towering heights, but the breeze did, and the scents it carried.

“Dramatic, or what?” Laiirah asked, raising her eyebrow.
“V... very...” Sarah said, looking over the edge of the 'peer'. There was no great barrier to prevent her from tumbling off the side, which she found rather worrying. The nails in her feet began to slice into the stone, making sure they had something to grip.
“No, no, look out!” Laiirah ordered her. “Beautiful!” she then declared.
Sarah's gaze returned to the world laid out before her. “It is wonderful...” she admitted. She took a deep breath of the desert breeze whispering up to her. Another familiar scent was in it. She began to wonder... about something she'd forgotten. A word formed, silently, on her lips.
“Roses?” Laiirah said, before taking a deep whiff of the air, “I don't smell any roses...”
“Huh?” Sarah said, turning to her companion.
“You mouthed 'roses'. I thought you were talking about a scent...” Laiirah shook her head.
“I was- but...” Sarah shook her head, “I said Rose. It was someone I knew, not so long ago.”
“Ah.” Laiirah nodded, “I thought I smelled humans on the wind.”
“I don't know...” Sarah sighed, “I think it's her, but she smells... fatter.” Sarah said, with a chuckle. “I'm not very good at all this smelling business, eh?”
Laiirah laughed, “Oh, I don't know... you're right... someone out there smells pretty big... but I don't think it's quite fat, if you know what I mean...”
“Maybe it's just a stray breeze.” Sarah shrugged, turning back to face the palace.
“Maybe.” Laiirah shrugged, following her.
“We'll see soon enough.”
May 26, 2018 6:09 pm
Liked by Zaloog81 (Jun 7, 2018), deux_anges (May 27, 2018), preggolovah (May 26, 2018)
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