[align=center]Shipmates[/align]
Lenore “Saltbraids” (“Sounds like a good pirate name, aye?”) was living her fondest dream. This was a shame, because she wasn’t in any position to enjoy it. She was currently kneeling on hard wood, brush in hand, scrubbing away some nameless slime.
For as long as she could remember, the young dwarf woman had wanted to be a pirate. It just sounded so romantic, after all – swashbuckling, rum, tight pants, tropical islands, rum, cannons, treasure, and rum. She’d told her mother about her dreams once, to her regret.
“Yeh daft lassie,” her mother had snapped, not looking up from her cooking, “dwarves arenae meant tae be sailors. Yeh jus’ stay ‘ere, in Anvilmar, an’ meet a nice lad. Give us a lot o’ bonny grandkids, aye?”
Lenore shuddered at the memory, and scrubbed harder. Meeting a nice lad was not on her list of things to do. She’d tried to delicately suggest as much to her mother. When this had been met by confusion, she’d elaborated.
Her mother had said she was a disgrace to the family – because apparently preferring girls and not wanting to spend all her time popping out babies was something to frown on – and the discussion had turned into a screaming match. She’d left that day, travelled to Freehold in Kul’Tiras, and signed on to become a buccaneer. A life of… of…
She sighed, dipping the brush in the bucket of soapy water.
A life of scrubbing decks and trying to ignore the captain’s attempts to get into her pants.
As if on cue, she felt a slap on her curvy backside, and sighed. Captain Ferstald was widely loved by his crew, apparently. He was certainly sleeping with almost every female member of the crew, as far as she could tell. He was good looking, if you liked that sort of thing – she didn’t – well muscled, and clean.
And the bane of her shipboard life.
“Looking fine, Len,” he said, patting her backside again. Well, at least she’d got the tight pants, and they looked damn good on her, but..
“Aye, scrubbed so yeh can eat yer dinner off it,” she managed through gritted teeth, and tried to move her backside away from him while still scrubbing. This ended up with her basically wiggling it in his direction, and she cursed internally.
“You could join me in my cabin for that, instead,” he said with a smile she could hear in his voice. She kept her eyes on the deck, and half expected to hear a ting! as the light reflected off his teeth.
“I prefer lassies, sir,” she said. She was starting to think she should get it as a tattoo, so she could hold it up instead of repeating it over, and over…
“So do I,” he said, walking to face her and grinning down at her, “so we have that in common. Perhaps over drinks we could find out what else we do, and perhaps you’ll change your mind…”
She sighed, straitening up and rubbing the small of her back. A moment too late she realized this was just shoving her rather generous cleavage in his direction. The low-cut red shirt she preferred showed a fair amount of pale, blue-grey skin at the best of times, and she was pretty sure stretching like this just gave him a front row view of her nipples through the thin fabric. Damn, damn, damn.
“I’m busy, sir,” she tried, “cleanin’ yer deck.”
“Another time, perhaps,” he said, giving her a smile, and that was that. He was persistent, and wouldn’t understand that no meant stop trying, but he certainly never showed interest in forcing himself on her. She watched him head back towards his cabin, stopping to pick up a rather cute female draenei sailor. She looked after them with a bit of jealousy. What she wouldn’t give to have that lassie’s head between her thighs…
She shook herself out of the thought. She could feel the fabric tightening over her nipples, and the last thing she needed was for Ferstald to think she was interested.
Grumbling, she returned to scrubbing the deck.
* * *
“LAND! LAND TO STARBOARD!”
Lenora swung back onto her heels at the call, and looked eagerly over the gunwale. This was what she was waiting for! A desert island, flush with treasure, and places to drink rum, and sandy beaches, and sexy native women wearing grass skirts and coconuts, ready to learn about this thing Lenora called love. Or at least about scissoring.
Her heart sank once again. The island in question was small, covered in what she immediately defined as “really shitty jungle”, and overcast. It looked like someone had taken a swamp, drained it, and built another swamp on top of it, but worse, and then just added some bigger trees and a bunch of really half-arsed ruins.
“Look at that!” one of the sailors, the cute draenei from before, breathed. She came and leant on the railing beside Lenora, arms folded. Stealing a look, Lenora couldn’t help but notice how well the draenei’s breasts filled out her top, especially from this angle.
“Aye,” Lenora said, her lack of enthusiasm for the island more than made up for by her enthusiasm for her companion in viewing it.
“Is so… mysterious, yes?” the draenei breathed. Her accent was exotic and intoxicating to Lenora.
“Aye, why not,” Lenora agreed, “I’m Lenora, by th’ way,” she cursed herself inwardly. Smooth, lassie, smooth.
“Arielle,” the draenei replied, giving her an infectious smile, “We have not spoken much on this trip. I was thinking you were ignoring me.”
Crap! “Och, no, I wasnae, I’m jus’ a bit… um… shy…” around sexy women twice my height who I keep fantasizing… no, stop it! Damn, she could feel her nipples perking, and… frantically, she tried to match Aielle’s pose on the gunwale, and then blushed as she realized that the wooden rail came up to the bottom of her neck anyway, and her arousal was well hidden by it.
“Is no reason for being shy,” Arielle said in broken common, giving Lenora another warm smile that sent tingles through her pussy, “I am very friendly.”
Och yes, Lenora thought, sourly, Ferstald took perfect advantage o’ that, th’ jammy sod. She then immediately felt guilty for the uncharitable thought, and turned her softly glowing orange eyes back to the island, trying to see it as Arielle did. She failed. It was a shithole.
“I am going ashore with the captain,” Arielle enthused, “You will come too, yes?”
Lovely. Trying to fend off pawing in the jungle. If I’d wanted that I’d have gone on a hozen ship. “Aye, sure, lass.” Lenora found herself agreeing, eyes straying to the draenei’s shirt. She really was filling it out very nicely there and… wait… was she just as perky as Lenora right now? Well, it was probably thinking about Captain Smarmy McTightpants, and… damn, those nipples looked like they were hard enough to cut glass. Well, no, that would be both horrifically uncomfortable and totally impractical, Lenora amended, but they looked hard enough to suck on, enthusiastically, until she made Arielle scream out and… The sudden pause made her realize that Arielle had stopped talking, and that Lenora had been spending an indeterminate amount of time staring at her nipples through the shirt. “Uh, what? Sorry, th’… island… goin’ ashore… I was thinkin’ and…”
“I was saying how fun it would be, yes? Just the three of us?”
Wait, crap, just the three? Damn, so she was going to be a spare wheel. She sighed. Still, a spare wheel who got to ogle a pretty draenei lassie wasn’t terrible. And it probably was a much nicer island than it appeared. Maybe it was just from the ship that it looked like a swamp, and those native lassies probably had barrels of rum to serve in half-coconuts, and…
* * *
Lenora swatted a mosquito the size of her hand, and glared at the mess.
It looked like a shitty swamp from the ship, but in reality it was actually a really shitty swamp. If there were any sexy native girls, they probably wore head-to-toe mosquito netting. Their rum probably sank. Any coconuts they had would have drifted here on the tides, or been carried by migratory birds, or something, because the only fruit she’d found looked, smelled, and probably tasted like the wrong end of a darkhound.
She kicked angrily at a rock, which extended claws and backed away, eyes waving at her on stalks.
“Sir!” Arielle’s exotic tones sent a shiver down Lenora’s back, and straight through her pussy too. Damn, she wanted that draenei. It wasn’t fair!
“What have you found?” Ferstald asked, hurrying over. The cute draenei’s red shirt was heaving with excitement, breasts threatening to escape. Lenora gave a little whimper, but hurried over to join them too. Well, waded. Shallow water for the human captain and the lithe (if slightly top-heavy) draenei was almost above her knees. She really hated this island.
Arielle held up her find proudly. It was a crudely carved statue of a troll woman, only heavily pregnant and with pendulous breasts to match. It looked like some sort of fertility idol, and would probably be a nice addition to a museum, except for two details.
Firstly, it was solid gold, as best as Lenora could tell – and she was a dwarf, which meant she could tell gold very well at a glance, and secondly the bellybutton on it was a ruby. The statue was a foot tall, and the ruby was a generous size, making the statue’s belly look something like a larger breast. It wasn’t a bad look, and for a moment Lenora found herself regretting the way she was wired. Maybe her ma had a point. Breeding seemed pretty damn enticing right now…
She shook her head, confused, and the desire faded. Weird.
Arielle wasn’t looking at the statue any more. She was holding it limply, and staring at the captain – who, Lenora noticed, had managed to rip his fine yellow silk shirt on one of the trees, showing off his toned muscles. Bloody typical.
“Looks like it’ll be worth a fair bit… an’ yeh dropped it,” Lenora said, as Arielle threw herself at the captain like a wild animal. She wrapped her legs around his waist, shredded off his shirt, and began kissing – no, biting him. Lenora was torn between looking away and blushing. Then Arielle ripped off her own shirt, and Lenora’s attention was fixed on the heaving boobs. They were full, setting slightly against her ribs from their weight, and topped by the cutest little pale areola Lenora had ever seen. Her perky nipples really did look just right to suck on.
“If yeh need some privacy…” Lenora mumbled, quietly, watching as the captain ripped off his pants. “och, tha’s… um… a wee bit larger than I’ve seen, I’ll jes’… I’ll be over ‘ere… um.. on this rock…”
Arielle shimmied her own pants off – a tricky prospect, as the draenei’s tail was lashing around like a mad thing, and eased the captain’s hard cock into her waiting sex with a low moan of pleasure. Lenora, being of a practical mindset, decided the statue had to be cursed. She picked it up, looking to see if there was some sort of…
She stopped, and covered her face with her palm, as she realized she was looking for a way to switch it off. Then she looked up at Arielle and the captain. They were against a tree now, the captain slamming his eager cock deep into her. Her head was thrown back, breasts bouncing heavily against her ribs, and she was letting out short yips and moans that were hitting Lenora right in the libido.
She shrugged. The head of the statue was smooth, the tusks of the troll more suggested in the lines than actually sculpted, and it seemed a shame to disturb them while they were so happy, curse or no curse, so Lenora undid her shirt, slipped off her pants, and set to work rhythmically rubbing the head of the statue against her needy clit, watching Arielle’s breasts and imagining it was her making the draenei scream. Her free hand moved eagerly to one of her own breasts, pinching and kneading at the nipple.
Arielle let out a shuddering shriek that send parrots soaring from the trees, and lapsed back, panting, running her hands through Ferstald’s hair as he came a moment later.
“Good work,” Lenora moaned, rubbing the statue faster as she felt the tide of her orgasm rising, “Go teeeeAAAM!”
She arched her back as the orgasm hit, and slumped back down, eying the now-slippery statue. “Good job, lass,” she murmured to it, “best head I’ve ‘ad ‘tween m’thighs in a while.”
Arielle was looking wide-eyed at Ferstald, who was staring back at her in the same way. “What did…” the draenei gasped, going pale, and Lenora followed her eyes. Ferstald’s cock, slick and dripping, was slowly drooping. His bare, uncovered cock.
“I don’t know what happened,” Ferstald mumbled, his face almost as ashen as Lenora’s natural complexion.
“I think this lovely wee statue might be cursed,” Lenora offered, slipping the head of it back into her moist folds.”
“And… and you’re masturbating with it?” Arielle’s voice was several octaves higher than usual, as she looked from the naked dwarf, to the naked captain, and down at her own naked body. Cum was running down her legs.
“What else ‘m I meant tae do wi’ iiii…uhhhh, it?” Lenora managed, her breath coming in short pants.
“Practically anything,” Ferstald managed, shaking himself clear of it. “I have a potion back on the ship, for… for… accidents,” he added, “we just need to get back there and you can take it… I am so, so sorry,”
Arielle wasn’t listening. Instead, she was tugging on her perky nipples, watching Lenora.
“That is so hot,” she murmured, a glazed look coming over her eyes.
“’s actually pretty chilly,” Lenora managed, aware that she was babbling, but not caring as she felt the rising orgasm. Arielle was getting off to her! Getting off to her… getting off to Arielle, “an’ it’d be nice if it, y’know, vibrated.” …wait, so did that mean that Arielle thought she was…
Lenora blinked and looked down.
“Where’d it go?”
There was no sign of the statue. Her hands were empty. So was her pussy.
And then Arielle was there, head thrusting between Lenora’s legs. The dwarf grabbed the draenei’s horns, pulling her close, and arched her back as the draenei’s furious tongue finished what the statue had started. Panting, she looked over at the captain, who was looking aroused and afraid in equal measures. “Lassie, dinnae fret,” she moaned, running her fingers through Arielle’s long blonde hair, “we’ll get yeh back tae th’ ship an’ yeh c’n take the potion, an’ they’ll be no fret o’ yeh getting’ pregnant.”
Arielle raised her head, licking her lips. “I am not afraid of that,” she purred, “I think I would look good pregnant, yes?”
“Woah! ‘Old on, lass… no, I dinnae mean stop, keep goin’… oh yeah!… Tha’ statue did sommat to yeh. Listen, we get yeh back, yeh take the potion, an’ then think about it. Annaeway… I… OH! …Tha’s not ‘ow… OH GODS, YES!”
The trip back to the ship was made a tiny bit tricky by their nudity, but the captain managed to recover their clothes and, with the addition of towels from a locker in the longboat, they were able to get back to the ship with minimal issues.
Lenora felt exhausted as she left the island. A good exhausted, but also a slightly hollow feeling. Arielle could do things with her tongue that the dwarf hadn’t even thought possible, but at the same time she felt that the glorious, glorious events of earlier shouldn’t be considered in the light of sanity. Whatever curse that idol had, it was gone now. She made sure Arielle took the potion, and – eyes barely staying open – fell into bed. Her last thought before sleep was that she really didn’t remember getting her navel pierced, or the pretty navel ring she was wearing, with the ruby.
Her dreams were odd. Interesting. She walked through a golden city, filled with troll women. Most of them were pregnant, and she realized like never before how sexy that looked. Heavy breasts, swollen bellies full of new life… a big badge that said I fucked for the world to see. Whatever the reason, it was working her up.
“Dey look good, yes?” A troll voice, soft and warm. She turned. The woman of the statue stood there, ripe and ready to drop. Lenora had never seen anyone looking as pregnant as her – huge, round, and gravid. She looked like a goddess.
The troll woman laughed.
“No, girl. Not a goddess, a Loa. Loa of fertility and life, and lookin’ for a host, now.”
Lenora opened her eyes to darkness. She freaked out, kicking her legs, and clawing at her eyes… where she encountered cloth. Pulling it away, she looked muzzily at the ceiling of her cabin.
“Dream,” she whispered to herself, feeling her lips. They were dry. She reached for the bottle of run she had on her bedside cupboard, and felt something heavy holding her in place, she frowned, looking down at the bedclothes. They were pulled tight around her breasts, which seemed… bigger. Much bigger. She’d gone from an E to… something well beyond. Damp circles were forming on the cloth around her nipples. Muzzily, she wondered why she was sweating there, and how.
Then the rest of the scene hit her, and she froze. She reached out her fingers, and tentatively poked the bedclothes. She encountered warm, yielding flesh.
Below her breasts, the blankets rose in a big, round dome. She pulled the blankets aside, and stared.
Then she poked it again.
She replayed the events on the island in her mind.
“WHAT THE FUCK?”
* * *
Several hours later, after trying to work out what had happened, she had got out of bed – awkwardly, because it was amazing how hard it was to move when your center of gravity was waaaaay off, and examined her new shape.
Okay, she had to admit that she wasn’t quite as big as she’d thought. That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t big, mind you. Her belly was big enough to hold a gnome, as far as she could tell, a little more elongated than purely round, too. It hung low and heavy, and she could feel pressure on the skin beneath her engorged breasts. They rested heavily to either side of that impressive swell, and had developed a fine tracery of veins. Her areola, usually a deep grey-blue, were now a rich, dark browinish-black, and her nipples, which had previously been the size of her little finger, were now like plump strawberries, and constantly leaking a yellowish-clear fluid that careful examination had revealed was watery but slightly sweet. She couldn’t remember what breastmilk tasted like, but she was fairly sure it wasn’t as sweet as what was leaking from her engorged tits.
A cursory feel around the huge orb of her apparent pregnancy had revealed that her bellybutton was also sticking out, and had something slightly cool and faintly angular hanging from a piercing through it. She couldn’t see it – the furthest she could see on her belly was the dark line bisecting it top-to -bottom – but she was willing to bet it was a ruby.
Worse, she was horny as hell right now, only made worse by how damn good stroking the skin of her heavy belly felt, she had nothing to wear, and was pretty sure no cute girls were going to want to fuck her like this. Which was a shame, because every time she stopped thinking about it, she was entertaining an idea at the back of her mind that she was exceptionally sexy.
There was a knock on the door.
“Uh, Lenora, are you alright?” The voice was the captain, but subdued.
“Peachy,” she called back, poking her belly with a finger, “Jes a few… um… side effects from th’ island.”
“I… I wanted to talk to you about that,” he sounded like that was actually the last thing that he wanted, really.
“Um… Och, hell…” Well, he’d already seen her naked, and masturbating furiously as she watched Arielle… “Look, come in, jus’ you, an’… brace yerself.”
He came in. he looked at her. His eyes widened.
“What the fuck?”
“Aye, tha’s what I said,” she sighed. He walked around her, staring. For once, she didn’t feel like he was eyeing her up in a sexual manner, despite her nudity. It actually irritated her a bit.
“I’m no a plate o’ meat,” she snapped, putting her hands on her hips.
“Sorry, I just… Was this the idol?”
“I bloody well ‘ope it was, because ‘ow many cursed artifacts are there around ‘ere otherwise?”
He caught her tone, and then his eyes widened.
“I was so caught up in… you need clothes! Oh Light, I’m sorry, Len, I didn’t register you were naked.”
“Okay, so, word tae th’ wise, lad – an’ we’ll let it slide because I’m nae interested in yeh sexually – most naked lassies dinnae appreciate people not noticin’ when they’re eyein’ them up.”
“I am so sorry. Look, we’ll find you someone to take care of this, I just…”
A pang of fear hit Lenora. She rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the tightness of the skin beneath – and idly noting just how nice that rubbing felt, and voiced her concern. “Wha’ about Arielle? Is she OK?”
“She’s fine. She… she was actually what I needed to talk to you about… before this.”
Sighing, Lenora lowered herself into a chair, which creaked alarmingly, and gestured for Ferstald to sit on the bed. He did, somewhat gingerly.
“Look, um, I know you liked… like Arielle,” he began, wincing at his fumbled words.
“Pregnant lad – I think – no’ dead. Like.”
“Aye. I mean, yes. Well, um… I invited her to my cabin before we went to the island, for… um… you know.”
“To fuck ‘er senseless,” Lenora supplied, shifting in her seat. Gods, she was horny.
“…um, yes. Well, I guess she misunderstood. She… uh… she wasn’t interested.”
“She seemed plenty interested on th’ island,” Lenora pointed out, dryly.
“Before she burred her face in your pussy?” Ferstald’s response was equally dry.
“Valid. So, she dinnae want yeh?”
“She was polite about it, but she told me she was more interested in… well, in ‘the shy dwarf’.”
Lenora’s heart soared at that. She liked that girl, liked her a lot, and the things she could do with her tongue..
“Um,” the embarrassed noise brought her back to herself, and the realization that one hand was happily rubbing her taut belly, while the other was milking one overfull breast. She blushed.
“Sorry. This body ‘as a mind of its own.”
Ferstald cleared his throat, and his face was pale as he continued.
“Well, she’ll probably have different ideas now, I imagine,” he said with a sigh. “Light, how am I going to explain this to the crew. They’ll never trust me again…”
Something inside Lenora snapped at that. Up until now, she had faced anger, she had spent futile minutes trying to convince herself this was a dream, she had offered prayers to the Titans – hell, even Ragnaros – and she had cried. She had run a huge gamut of emotions while she struggled to get her swollen body out of bed. Right now, she was torn between furious, self-conscious, embarrassed and horny.
“Yeh… yeh self-centered piece o’ shit,” she hissed, eyes blazing orange.
“What?”
“Yeh heard me,” she hauled herself upright, almost instantly regretting it as the weight of her belly pulled her forwards, and attempted to stalk towards him. It was very much more of an angry waddle, and she couldn’t help but notice how much she had to swing her hips. She’d seen prostitutes put less work into making their walks sensual. Of course, they hadn’t had a big, swollen, heavy… fertile… womanly… She shook her head, clearing the rising pink fog and focusing on the red fire of anger instead. She leant forward to prod him in the chest, but her belly got in the way and she ended up just ramming the immense, heavy swell it into his crotch. There was no reaction from that area, which she was half glad and half incensed about. Sure, she didn’t want him, but damn, she looked so good… No, she really did. The hell with it.
“’E’re I am, lookin’ like a… a… “ fertility loa, girl …”like a bloody fertility goddess, naked, huge-breasted an’ practically drippin’, I’m so lubed up right noo, an’ all yeh c’n think aboot is what the crew will think of you?”
“I have a reputation!” he snapped back, looking like a cornered rabbit. He was freaked out by all this. Supernatural curses were pretty much page one of the buccaneer’s handbook (metaphorically speaking – he’d have been the first to admit that any such book would be written in large, crayon letters, with lots of pictures, probably on the back of beer mats), and he’d experienced a fair few. Crew turning to skeletons, crew forbidden from stepping on dry land, crew turned into hozen, crew followed by obese and smelly seagull… these were normal. Members of the crew made enormously pregnant? No, that wasn’t the sort of thing you normally encountered. Plus, when that crew member was the hot lesbian dark iron you’d been trying to turn bi through the magical powers of a good deep dicking, and he was pretty sure she was good for it, despite her hesitation, because otherwise why did she keep flaunting her tits and ass at him, honestly? Hell, she was grinding against his cock right now, and maybe he’d have enjoyed it, at that, even with her body being all… Darkmoon Faire funhouse… There was a time and a place for things, and this was the time and place for protecting his good name!
“I’ve been good,” he continued, trying to meet her glare – which was hard, nothing can glare quite like people with burning orange eyes – and steeled himself. “Sure, I sleep around a bit, but I only do it with willing women, and I am careful, really careful, to never knock them up. Hell, I have never lost control like I did yesterday, thanks to that damn idol, so imagine what people will think when they see you on my ship?”
If the volcano had been simmering before, there were the sort of rumbles that sent the locals looking for a virgin to sacrifice now.
“What they will think?” she hissed, “what they will think? Yeh think I’d even suggest this was yeh? ‘Ow many times? I. Like. Lassies. It’s no’ a hard concept tae grasp. I feel like I ‘ave tae ram it down throats all th’ bloody time. D’yeh know, I am a deep an’ caring person? Wi’ hobbies? Wi’ interests other than shaggin’ hot wimmin?” Oh Gods, she wanted Arielle… what would the Draenei think of her like this? No, later, focus. “I’m nae jus’ those three words, but I ‘ave tae say them OVER an’ OVER again because yer too damn stubborn tae get them. I wouldnae fuck yeh if yeh were the last man alive, because I dinnae want tae fuck men. Got it?”
“And how, exactly, are other people going to know that? When they see you on my ship, looking ready to pop out a litter, what are they going to think?” he put on a high falsetto as he continued, “Oh, look! There’s Lenora, she likes girls, so she couldn’t possibly have been knocked up by the captain, because pregnancies don’t require a man to happen.”
Lenora deflated slightly. She was panting, her copious chest heaving, and her belly rubbing back and forth against his crotch in a way that, yes, was starting to make him hard – because, quite frankly, anything rubbing a cock for long enough will do that.
“Well… damn.”
He had a point.
She turned, waddling back to her chair, and flumped down with another loud creak.
“So, what d’we do about it?” she asked, with a sigh.
“Well,” he began, looking at her anew. Honestly, he’d never considered pregnancy attractive at all, but her breasts were, after all, huge, and… He shook his head in confusion. That wasn’t right, he really didn’t find her new shape sexy. It was that bloody idol. It may have vanished, but the curse was still there, clinging to Lenora like an albatross around the neck of a doomed sailor.
Well, there was a cure for that, right enough. It was drastic, he had to admit, and it would hurt his reputation… just not as much as she would. He took a deep breath.
“There is one solution that presents itself,” he began.
Lenora sighed. Here it came. Sleep with the captain.
“It’s drastic, and messy, and it’ll involve a lot of fumbling in the dark…”
“I’m no interested in shaggin’…” she began.
“…Mutiny!” he finished, spreading his arms wide to emphasize his dramatic triumph, then blinked. “What?”
She stared at him, open mouthed.
“Wait, what?!”
“Mutiny?” he tried again, less sure of himself.
Lenora pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Drastic, aye. Messy, mebbe, I get tha’. But… fumblin’ in the dark?”
“Well, did you plan on staging a mutiny stark naked?”
“I wasnae actually plannin’ on… och, sure, why not, it’s no’ the most ridiculous thing I’ve ‘eard today.” She folded her hands on her belly, fingers splayed, and absently stroked the top of that taut, warm swell as she thought about it.
“Alright,” she finally agreed, “So mutiny. We find sommat I can wear – which I dinnae think will be easy – an’ I mutiny. Then what?”
“We put you in a boat and cast you adrift,” he continued, raising a finger to forestall her response. “It’s more sensible than it sounds,”
“Tha’s good, because it sounds bloody stupid. I’m no dyin’ alone in a boat at sea.”
“No, you won’t, because beforehand I prepare the boat with a decent cut of my treasure. Enough to buy a nice cottage, or a reasonable small ship of your own. It’s the least I can do. I’ll also include this… “ and he held up a worn white stone with a blue spiral on. “It’s set to the Snug Harbor Inn in Boralis,” he added.
Lenora looked at him with fresh respect. “Tha’s… actually astonishin’ly generous.”
“I am a man of honour,” the pirate protested.
* * *
As it played out, Ferstald was right. Getting her clothes that fitted involved a lot of fumbling in the dark. The captain turned out to be a dab-hand with a needle and thread. Some sailcloth, some spare leather, and the addition of some stretchy panels to a pair of her old pants later, and she had something that was actually a fairly nice outfit. Not decent, in any way shape or form, but not bad. The pants clung a lot, and she was forced to admit that her backside had grown with her belly, but… well, she was a dwarf. A round backside was something you were used to from puberty, and a little rounder… well, it could have been worse. The front of them had to be tugged pretty far down, and worn unlaced. She’d managed to get him to make her some panties, too, made from her old shirt. They covered next to nothing – just enough, in fact, to entice. She secretly loved them. He’d rigged her up what he insisted on referring to as a “boob hammock,” and she had been almost disappointed he’d not copped a feel when measuring. Which was stupid, because she wasn’t the least bit interested, but she had a little bit of vanity left. Over the top of her prodigiously swollen pregnant body, he tugged one of his old frock coats, which he adjusted as best he could. It hung smoothly down her back, hiding how much she was arching it to keep her belly from digging into the waistband of her pants, and as a result she looked even larger. She was wearing a button-up white shirt underneath, and could feel the breeze through the gaping diamonds down the front. A deep breath would probably do some serious button-shrapnel damage. The final step was a tricorn hat, which he put on her flame-red hair. There was no mirror, but he nodded at her approvingly.
“Right,” he said, “your own mother wouldn’t recognize you.”
Lenora looked down at the swollen breasts and the huge belly, in their straining covering, and found she had to agree.
“Right, so play along, and when I’m done introducing you, call for mutiny. It’ll work, trust me.”
“The more yeh go into – for want o’ a better word – details, the worse it sounds,” Lenora sighed.
“Trust me. When have I ever lead you astray?”
“Well, there was this island wi’ a cursed statue,” she began.
“Come on.”
* * *
There was a crowd gathered on deck. They were staring at Lenora. Everyone on the ship was there – including Arielle, who looked lost and confused, and a little hurt for some reason. Once again, Lenora couldn’t help notice just how female-heavy the crew was. The image of that troll city, with all the pregnant women, floated through her head. There was a warm, not mocking, laugh that joined it. She shook it away. Some of the men were looking at her with unwanted desire, some with confusion, some with mild disgust. She wasn’t particularly happy about any of those.
“Crew,” the captain began, heartily, “This here is my Niece, Lenora, who…”
Lenora closed her eyes, cheeks burning. Even as she did so, she heard a loud slapping sound, as if every member of the crew at once had slapped their palm to their face. She peeked, and nodded to herself. Yep.
From the back of the crowd, she could hear a grumbling male voice “Again? Bloody captains, think we’re stupid. I suppose this one’s a cross-dresser too?”
She ignored this, and offered a fervent prayer that the deck would swallow her. The boards creaked a bit sympathetically as she shifted her weight, and she mentally glared at them too. It’s baby weight, yeh wooden bastards. Oh gods, that was a point, and one she’d been avoiding thinking about… what WAS inside her?
“My Niece, Lenora,” the captain snapped, glaring at them, “whom none of you have met and who just happens to look like our crewmate with the same name and I can HEAR you chuckling, Vanel, shut up. She joined us at the last port…”
“That deserted island, you mean?” a voice piped up helpfully.
“The last port, and… oh, bugger it. “
Lenora sighed, and pulled the pistol he’d given her. It snagged on her shirt and, with a rip, one of the buttons came off. This was followed by a rapid-fire series of rips and pings as the poor strained fabric gave up, and buttons flew everywhere. Several of the nearest sailors ducked. She felt a draft across the skin of her huge belly, and closed her eyes for a moment as her libido surged. It was like a caress. Struggling to gather herself, she brandished the pistol.
“Enough o’ this,” she said, with hearty feeling that she didn’t need to fake, “Th’ captain… I mean, my uncle… I mean, och, fuck it. THIS IS A MUTINY!”
* * *
Lenora shifted to better support her weight. The downside to her immense pregnancy was that it was hell on the back, and she felt the creaking boards were just mocking her. Around her, the crew tightened their grip on their weapons. She sighed. The mutiny had gone even less well than she had anticipated.
“Look,” she told the captain, a tone of conciliatory pleading in her voice, “I told yeh it was a stupid idea.”
Ferstald stared at her with disbelieving eyes.
“I mean, yeh had to realise tha’ whole story was possibly th’ worst concoction ever. I’m a bloody dwarf, fer th’ love o’ th’ Light. ‘Ow could I be yer niece? ‘Old on, would yeh?” this was directed at one of the sailors holding the painter to the boat, “I’m nae done talkin’.”
“Well, marriage, or something,” the captain snapped back at her.
She sighed, waiting patiently as several other sailors got into the longboat.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to support you at all,” he hissed.
“Aye, well, they’ll get wha’s comin’ tae them,” she said, slightly morosely.
“Now, Cap’n?” Arielle, gripping her cutlass and glaring at the prisoners in the longboat, asked.
Ferstald and Lenora shared a look. It spoke volumes. Apologies for the way things had ended, for stupid plans and bad fallout.
“Aye,” Lenora said, “but put th’ cutlass down, aye? Ferstald’s a good man. Cast off!”
The boat was pushed away. Lenora was happy to see the treasure chest was shoved under the seat as planned. The hearthstone was in there, too, but it probably wasn’t going to help with five other sailors in the boat too. Poor Ferstald. Well, at least some of the crew had supported him.
“Right,” Captain Lenora Saltbraids said, straightening up and rubbing her swollen belly as she watched the boat drift away, “I could use some grub, an’ then we’ll see if one o’ these islands ‘as anythin’ worth plunderin’, aye?”
Her almost all-female crew, along with the three remaining men who had seen which way the wind was blowing, cheered her. Arielle, her new first mate, gave her a look through heavy lidded eyes that made her weak at the knees.
“I’ll take mine in me cabin,” she added, “Arielle, care tae join me?”
“Please,” the draenei purred.
* * *
Lenora took a swig from her mug. Like a proper pirate mug, it was carved into a skull. It was filled with milk, of course, but… it had the proper threatening air about it. The milk was sweet, and still warm. Well, that was hardly surprising, considering she had it on tap, so to speak.
She shifted her weight in the chair. It wasn’t very comfortable. Her belly was pressing against the sides, compressing it forward and making it seem larger still, and her butt was perched right on the edge. She had shoved cushions behind her to ease her back, and they were only partially working. Right, a new chair was on the top of her list. She rubbed the taut skin of her belly, cooing. That felt so good. For the first time since the curse had hit her, she was allowing herself to feel sexy. A fire was burning in her, and she was ready to give in to her lusts.
“Wha’ I don’t understand,” she asked, shifting slightly more, “is why yeh looked so sad an’ hurt when I showed up wi’ the captain.”
Arielle paused, sliding the unbuckled boots over her hooves. They had no soles, and for a moment Lenora idly wondered what the point of them was.
“I thought… silly, but I thought you were wanting him, yes?”
Lenora stared at her.
“I’ve been talkin’ tae m’ bloody self, apparently. Lassie, I dinnae like men.”
Arielle brightened noticeably, sliding off her shirt. Lenora practically drooled as she looked at the draenei’s breasts. Light, they were perfect. Big and firm, slightly distended by gravity, and topped with those perky, sweet nipples. The draenei blushed, adorably, holding her hands behind her back and tracing a hoof across the floor. Lenora thought it might just be the sexiest thing she’d seen.
“You are… gorgeous,” Arielle said, softly, “And I thought… I have been wanting to approach you, but I was afraid you were not liking girls. You were always showing off for the capt… er, for Ferstald, after all.”
“No’ intentionally,” Lenora assured her. Arielle was undressing the dwarf with her eyes… well, that was hardly tricky, Lenora had to admit. She’d opened her poor, embattled shirt to milk herself, and her swollen breasts sat proudly on her heavy belly. She’d also squirmed out of her leggings, for comfort, so the only thing covering her sex was a red, silky heart. The shirt and coat hung open, framing her immense pregnancy.
“You are… forgive me,” Arielle purred, sliding off her own leggings. There was nothing beneath them, just the draenei’s cleanshaven pussy, pouting and eager. Lenora licked her lips. “You are… beautiful.”
“Och, thank yeh lassie. Yer pretty much th’ sexiest an’ most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Lenora told her, honestly.
The draenei swayed across the room. Her tail lashed back and forth, keeping her balance. Like she’s got built-in high heels, Lenora thought, tweaking one of her nipples with anticipation.
“No, I am serious,” Arielle said, her voice a soft, exotic, breathy whisper that made Lenora’s clit twitch, “I thought so before, but now… You are womanly. Fertile. Such big breasts, so full and round, and that belly, so large, so prrrregnant,” she rolled the R in a way that made Lenora’s breath catch. Her chest was heaving, breasts wobbling on her belly.
“Uh, I take it yeh like th’ belly?”
Arielle placed her hands on Lenora’s knees, sliding gracefully to the ground, The dwarf could only see her eyes, the glowing symbol that floated atop her head, and her horns over the immense swells of belly and breast. Softly, almost reverently, Arielle began to kiss her belly.
“I am very much liking the belly,” she purred, “I took your advice and drank the potion, but I regret it. If I could be as prrrregnant as you…” For a moment, Lenora could imagine it. The slender draenei’s form swollen out, hugely distended, her already large breasts filled with milk, wobbling heavily to either side of it, her pussy, swollen and pouting…
The kisses worked slowly lower, starting from her sensitive bellybutton and working down, down…
“I would be in heaven,” the draenei continued, “I would worship at your altar, yes?”
Her voice became muffled as she took Lenora’s panties in her teeth, pulling them down. Lenora tried to reach out to hold Arielle’s horns, but her belly was in the way. She settled for stroking it, and her motions became more eager as, once again, she realized just how sensitive her skin was.
“Worship…” Lenora whispered, half to herself. It was odd, there was a slight echo to her words.
“Yes,” Arielle breathed, tracing her fingertips over Lenora’s engorged vulva. Pregnancy had done wonderful things to this dwarf, and she was in pure ecstasy exploring this swollen, womanly body. Parting the lips, she eyed the dwarf’s pulsing clit, a little bud among the fleshy petals. Gently, she flicked out her tongue, a quick and snake-like motion. The tip curled briefly over that nub, and Arielle closed her eyes for a moment in bliss. She could barely remember the events on the island, and had felt Lenora would feel betrayed in some way, but she was sure the dwarf had never tasted this good before. Her moist pussy was oddly sweet, like nectar.
“Yeh want tae be pregnant too, lassie?” Lenora breathed, trembling as little electric shocks travelled from her pussy through her whole body. She’d never, ever felt like this during sex before. It was sublime. No wonder wimmin get knocked up! She thought, gasping. She didn’t notice the slightly accented echo to her words.
“Yesss,” Lenora breathed, and the air against her sensitive folds sent more shocks of pleasure through her.
“Lassie, yer killin’ me here,” Lenora moaned.
Arielle darted her tongue into her once more, and then began to eat her out in earnest. She pressed her lips against Lenora’s clit, and hummed something the dwarf couldn’t understand… but she could feel. Lenora nearly came on the spot, and things only improved from there. The beautiful, big-eyed, innocent looking draenei very definitely knew her way around a pussy. Lenora, pinned to the chair by her huge belly, unable to reach the draenei, pawed at her heavy breasts and swollen belly, leaving pale handmarks on the skin, and let out low, eager moans of pure bliss. She was too pregnant to do anything else, she thought, and it was a beautiful torment.
It felt like an eternity of paradise, the pleasure building in her like waves lapping the shore – like Arielle’s tongue lapping her most private, sensitive treasure – and when it broke, her orgasm was explosive. With one final lick that built the trembling aftershocks back up into another, less impressive but still intense orgasm, the draenei lifted her head, resting her chin on her partner’s huge, round pregnancy. She slid her hands to either side of it as she licked the drops from her face, never breaking eye contact.
Lenora couldn’t even speak, she grabbed the draenei by the horns, not caring, and dragged her in for an eager, passionate kiss. She nearly came again as the draenei’s large breasts brushed her belly, those perky nipples tracking lines of fire over her skin.
“Granted,” she moaned around Arielle’s tongue.
“What?” Arielle asked, breaking the kiss for a moment in confusion.
“Wha’?” Lenora asked in reply, looking equally confused.
“You said… something. And your voice was sounding funny,” Arielle replied.
“Mouth full. Needs tae be full again. Kiss me, an’ then I’ll return the favour,” Lenora moaned, reaching for her again.
* * *
Six months had passed on the ship. Lenora, whose body hadn’t changed at all in that time, sat in her new, larger, far more comfortable chair. She had one leg dangling over the arm, and was sipping milk from the mug again. The chair was on the poop deck, giving her a fine view of her crew, and a better view of the orgy before the mast. The three men who had stayed with her crew had, thanks to some careful recruiting, been joined by several more, and they were making merry with every willing member of her female crew except Arielle. She smiled fondly, watching as naked women with swollen breasts and gently rounded bellies of various sizes, from the barely showing to the few who were obviously blessed with multiples, and looked almost at term already, rode cock like experts.
Well, there had been plenty of practice.
“I never thought I’d become a captain so fast,” she purred, closing her eyes for a moment as Arielle’s tongue worked her magic. Her first mate, now as pregnant as Lenora looked, and just as immaculately so, rubbed her heavy belly lovingly as she tongue-fucked her captain.
“My captain always comes fast,” the draenei purred.
Lenora laughed. “Aye, well, yeh seem tae be fond o’ that too.”
Arielle grinned at her, and turned her eyes to the orgy below.
“The crew are liking your new rules,” she purred, rising lithely to her hooves and rubbing her belly against Lenora. The captain’s eyes closed as pure pleasure washed over her.
The front of the ship bore a new figurehead, a nude and very pregnant dwarf that looked the image of her captain. As laughter and cries of passion rang out, the newly christened Mamma Er’zuli cut through the waves, and within Lenora’s belly, the quiescent Loa basked in the glory of her worshippers.
Lenore “Saltbraids” (“Sounds like a good pirate name, aye?”) was living her fondest dream. This was a shame, because she wasn’t in any position to enjoy it. She was currently kneeling on hard wood, brush in hand, scrubbing away some nameless slime.
For as long as she could remember, the young dwarf woman had wanted to be a pirate. It just sounded so romantic, after all – swashbuckling, rum, tight pants, tropical islands, rum, cannons, treasure, and rum. She’d told her mother about her dreams once, to her regret.
“Yeh daft lassie,” her mother had snapped, not looking up from her cooking, “dwarves arenae meant tae be sailors. Yeh jus’ stay ‘ere, in Anvilmar, an’ meet a nice lad. Give us a lot o’ bonny grandkids, aye?”
Lenore shuddered at the memory, and scrubbed harder. Meeting a nice lad was not on her list of things to do. She’d tried to delicately suggest as much to her mother. When this had been met by confusion, she’d elaborated.
Her mother had said she was a disgrace to the family – because apparently preferring girls and not wanting to spend all her time popping out babies was something to frown on – and the discussion had turned into a screaming match. She’d left that day, travelled to Freehold in Kul’Tiras, and signed on to become a buccaneer. A life of… of…
She sighed, dipping the brush in the bucket of soapy water.
A life of scrubbing decks and trying to ignore the captain’s attempts to get into her pants.
As if on cue, she felt a slap on her curvy backside, and sighed. Captain Ferstald was widely loved by his crew, apparently. He was certainly sleeping with almost every female member of the crew, as far as she could tell. He was good looking, if you liked that sort of thing – she didn’t – well muscled, and clean.
And the bane of her shipboard life.
“Looking fine, Len,” he said, patting her backside again. Well, at least she’d got the tight pants, and they looked damn good on her, but..
“Aye, scrubbed so yeh can eat yer dinner off it,” she managed through gritted teeth, and tried to move her backside away from him while still scrubbing. This ended up with her basically wiggling it in his direction, and she cursed internally.
“You could join me in my cabin for that, instead,” he said with a smile she could hear in his voice. She kept her eyes on the deck, and half expected to hear a ting! as the light reflected off his teeth.
“I prefer lassies, sir,” she said. She was starting to think she should get it as a tattoo, so she could hold it up instead of repeating it over, and over…
“So do I,” he said, walking to face her and grinning down at her, “so we have that in common. Perhaps over drinks we could find out what else we do, and perhaps you’ll change your mind…”
She sighed, straitening up and rubbing the small of her back. A moment too late she realized this was just shoving her rather generous cleavage in his direction. The low-cut red shirt she preferred showed a fair amount of pale, blue-grey skin at the best of times, and she was pretty sure stretching like this just gave him a front row view of her nipples through the thin fabric. Damn, damn, damn.
“I’m busy, sir,” she tried, “cleanin’ yer deck.”
“Another time, perhaps,” he said, giving her a smile, and that was that. He was persistent, and wouldn’t understand that no meant stop trying, but he certainly never showed interest in forcing himself on her. She watched him head back towards his cabin, stopping to pick up a rather cute female draenei sailor. She looked after them with a bit of jealousy. What she wouldn’t give to have that lassie’s head between her thighs…
She shook herself out of the thought. She could feel the fabric tightening over her nipples, and the last thing she needed was for Ferstald to think she was interested.
Grumbling, she returned to scrubbing the deck.
* * *
“LAND! LAND TO STARBOARD!”
Lenora swung back onto her heels at the call, and looked eagerly over the gunwale. This was what she was waiting for! A desert island, flush with treasure, and places to drink rum, and sandy beaches, and sexy native women wearing grass skirts and coconuts, ready to learn about this thing Lenora called love. Or at least about scissoring.
Her heart sank once again. The island in question was small, covered in what she immediately defined as “really shitty jungle”, and overcast. It looked like someone had taken a swamp, drained it, and built another swamp on top of it, but worse, and then just added some bigger trees and a bunch of really half-arsed ruins.
“Look at that!” one of the sailors, the cute draenei from before, breathed. She came and leant on the railing beside Lenora, arms folded. Stealing a look, Lenora couldn’t help but notice how well the draenei’s breasts filled out her top, especially from this angle.
“Aye,” Lenora said, her lack of enthusiasm for the island more than made up for by her enthusiasm for her companion in viewing it.
“Is so… mysterious, yes?” the draenei breathed. Her accent was exotic and intoxicating to Lenora.
“Aye, why not,” Lenora agreed, “I’m Lenora, by th’ way,” she cursed herself inwardly. Smooth, lassie, smooth.
“Arielle,” the draenei replied, giving her an infectious smile, “We have not spoken much on this trip. I was thinking you were ignoring me.”
Crap! “Och, no, I wasnae, I’m jus’ a bit… um… shy…” around sexy women twice my height who I keep fantasizing… no, stop it! Damn, she could feel her nipples perking, and… frantically, she tried to match Aielle’s pose on the gunwale, and then blushed as she realized that the wooden rail came up to the bottom of her neck anyway, and her arousal was well hidden by it.
“Is no reason for being shy,” Arielle said in broken common, giving Lenora another warm smile that sent tingles through her pussy, “I am very friendly.”
Och yes, Lenora thought, sourly, Ferstald took perfect advantage o’ that, th’ jammy sod. She then immediately felt guilty for the uncharitable thought, and turned her softly glowing orange eyes back to the island, trying to see it as Arielle did. She failed. It was a shithole.
“I am going ashore with the captain,” Arielle enthused, “You will come too, yes?”
Lovely. Trying to fend off pawing in the jungle. If I’d wanted that I’d have gone on a hozen ship. “Aye, sure, lass.” Lenora found herself agreeing, eyes straying to the draenei’s shirt. She really was filling it out very nicely there and… wait… was she just as perky as Lenora right now? Well, it was probably thinking about Captain Smarmy McTightpants, and… damn, those nipples looked like they were hard enough to cut glass. Well, no, that would be both horrifically uncomfortable and totally impractical, Lenora amended, but they looked hard enough to suck on, enthusiastically, until she made Arielle scream out and… The sudden pause made her realize that Arielle had stopped talking, and that Lenora had been spending an indeterminate amount of time staring at her nipples through the shirt. “Uh, what? Sorry, th’… island… goin’ ashore… I was thinkin’ and…”
“I was saying how fun it would be, yes? Just the three of us?”
Wait, crap, just the three? Damn, so she was going to be a spare wheel. She sighed. Still, a spare wheel who got to ogle a pretty draenei lassie wasn’t terrible. And it probably was a much nicer island than it appeared. Maybe it was just from the ship that it looked like a swamp, and those native lassies probably had barrels of rum to serve in half-coconuts, and…
* * *
Lenora swatted a mosquito the size of her hand, and glared at the mess.
It looked like a shitty swamp from the ship, but in reality it was actually a really shitty swamp. If there were any sexy native girls, they probably wore head-to-toe mosquito netting. Their rum probably sank. Any coconuts they had would have drifted here on the tides, or been carried by migratory birds, or something, because the only fruit she’d found looked, smelled, and probably tasted like the wrong end of a darkhound.
She kicked angrily at a rock, which extended claws and backed away, eyes waving at her on stalks.
“Sir!” Arielle’s exotic tones sent a shiver down Lenora’s back, and straight through her pussy too. Damn, she wanted that draenei. It wasn’t fair!
“What have you found?” Ferstald asked, hurrying over. The cute draenei’s red shirt was heaving with excitement, breasts threatening to escape. Lenora gave a little whimper, but hurried over to join them too. Well, waded. Shallow water for the human captain and the lithe (if slightly top-heavy) draenei was almost above her knees. She really hated this island.
Arielle held up her find proudly. It was a crudely carved statue of a troll woman, only heavily pregnant and with pendulous breasts to match. It looked like some sort of fertility idol, and would probably be a nice addition to a museum, except for two details.
Firstly, it was solid gold, as best as Lenora could tell – and she was a dwarf, which meant she could tell gold very well at a glance, and secondly the bellybutton on it was a ruby. The statue was a foot tall, and the ruby was a generous size, making the statue’s belly look something like a larger breast. It wasn’t a bad look, and for a moment Lenora found herself regretting the way she was wired. Maybe her ma had a point. Breeding seemed pretty damn enticing right now…
She shook her head, confused, and the desire faded. Weird.
Arielle wasn’t looking at the statue any more. She was holding it limply, and staring at the captain – who, Lenora noticed, had managed to rip his fine yellow silk shirt on one of the trees, showing off his toned muscles. Bloody typical.
“Looks like it’ll be worth a fair bit… an’ yeh dropped it,” Lenora said, as Arielle threw herself at the captain like a wild animal. She wrapped her legs around his waist, shredded off his shirt, and began kissing – no, biting him. Lenora was torn between looking away and blushing. Then Arielle ripped off her own shirt, and Lenora’s attention was fixed on the heaving boobs. They were full, setting slightly against her ribs from their weight, and topped by the cutest little pale areola Lenora had ever seen. Her perky nipples really did look just right to suck on.
“If yeh need some privacy…” Lenora mumbled, quietly, watching as the captain ripped off his pants. “och, tha’s… um… a wee bit larger than I’ve seen, I’ll jes’… I’ll be over ‘ere… um.. on this rock…”
Arielle shimmied her own pants off – a tricky prospect, as the draenei’s tail was lashing around like a mad thing, and eased the captain’s hard cock into her waiting sex with a low moan of pleasure. Lenora, being of a practical mindset, decided the statue had to be cursed. She picked it up, looking to see if there was some sort of…
She stopped, and covered her face with her palm, as she realized she was looking for a way to switch it off. Then she looked up at Arielle and the captain. They were against a tree now, the captain slamming his eager cock deep into her. Her head was thrown back, breasts bouncing heavily against her ribs, and she was letting out short yips and moans that were hitting Lenora right in the libido.
She shrugged. The head of the statue was smooth, the tusks of the troll more suggested in the lines than actually sculpted, and it seemed a shame to disturb them while they were so happy, curse or no curse, so Lenora undid her shirt, slipped off her pants, and set to work rhythmically rubbing the head of the statue against her needy clit, watching Arielle’s breasts and imagining it was her making the draenei scream. Her free hand moved eagerly to one of her own breasts, pinching and kneading at the nipple.
Arielle let out a shuddering shriek that send parrots soaring from the trees, and lapsed back, panting, running her hands through Ferstald’s hair as he came a moment later.
“Good work,” Lenora moaned, rubbing the statue faster as she felt the tide of her orgasm rising, “Go teeeeAAAM!”
She arched her back as the orgasm hit, and slumped back down, eying the now-slippery statue. “Good job, lass,” she murmured to it, “best head I’ve ‘ad ‘tween m’thighs in a while.”
Arielle was looking wide-eyed at Ferstald, who was staring back at her in the same way. “What did…” the draenei gasped, going pale, and Lenora followed her eyes. Ferstald’s cock, slick and dripping, was slowly drooping. His bare, uncovered cock.
“I don’t know what happened,” Ferstald mumbled, his face almost as ashen as Lenora’s natural complexion.
“I think this lovely wee statue might be cursed,” Lenora offered, slipping the head of it back into her moist folds.”
“And… and you’re masturbating with it?” Arielle’s voice was several octaves higher than usual, as she looked from the naked dwarf, to the naked captain, and down at her own naked body. Cum was running down her legs.
“What else ‘m I meant tae do wi’ iiii…uhhhh, it?” Lenora managed, her breath coming in short pants.
“Practically anything,” Ferstald managed, shaking himself clear of it. “I have a potion back on the ship, for… for… accidents,” he added, “we just need to get back there and you can take it… I am so, so sorry,”
Arielle wasn’t listening. Instead, she was tugging on her perky nipples, watching Lenora.
“That is so hot,” she murmured, a glazed look coming over her eyes.
“’s actually pretty chilly,” Lenora managed, aware that she was babbling, but not caring as she felt the rising orgasm. Arielle was getting off to her! Getting off to her… getting off to Arielle, “an’ it’d be nice if it, y’know, vibrated.” …wait, so did that mean that Arielle thought she was…
Lenora blinked and looked down.
“Where’d it go?”
There was no sign of the statue. Her hands were empty. So was her pussy.
And then Arielle was there, head thrusting between Lenora’s legs. The dwarf grabbed the draenei’s horns, pulling her close, and arched her back as the draenei’s furious tongue finished what the statue had started. Panting, she looked over at the captain, who was looking aroused and afraid in equal measures. “Lassie, dinnae fret,” she moaned, running her fingers through Arielle’s long blonde hair, “we’ll get yeh back tae th’ ship an’ yeh c’n take the potion, an’ they’ll be no fret o’ yeh getting’ pregnant.”
Arielle raised her head, licking her lips. “I am not afraid of that,” she purred, “I think I would look good pregnant, yes?”
“Woah! ‘Old on, lass… no, I dinnae mean stop, keep goin’… oh yeah!… Tha’ statue did sommat to yeh. Listen, we get yeh back, yeh take the potion, an’ then think about it. Annaeway… I… OH! …Tha’s not ‘ow… OH GODS, YES!”
The trip back to the ship was made a tiny bit tricky by their nudity, but the captain managed to recover their clothes and, with the addition of towels from a locker in the longboat, they were able to get back to the ship with minimal issues.
Lenora felt exhausted as she left the island. A good exhausted, but also a slightly hollow feeling. Arielle could do things with her tongue that the dwarf hadn’t even thought possible, but at the same time she felt that the glorious, glorious events of earlier shouldn’t be considered in the light of sanity. Whatever curse that idol had, it was gone now. She made sure Arielle took the potion, and – eyes barely staying open – fell into bed. Her last thought before sleep was that she really didn’t remember getting her navel pierced, or the pretty navel ring she was wearing, with the ruby.
Her dreams were odd. Interesting. She walked through a golden city, filled with troll women. Most of them were pregnant, and she realized like never before how sexy that looked. Heavy breasts, swollen bellies full of new life… a big badge that said I fucked for the world to see. Whatever the reason, it was working her up.
“Dey look good, yes?” A troll voice, soft and warm. She turned. The woman of the statue stood there, ripe and ready to drop. Lenora had never seen anyone looking as pregnant as her – huge, round, and gravid. She looked like a goddess.
The troll woman laughed.
“No, girl. Not a goddess, a Loa. Loa of fertility and life, and lookin’ for a host, now.”
Lenora opened her eyes to darkness. She freaked out, kicking her legs, and clawing at her eyes… where she encountered cloth. Pulling it away, she looked muzzily at the ceiling of her cabin.
“Dream,” she whispered to herself, feeling her lips. They were dry. She reached for the bottle of run she had on her bedside cupboard, and felt something heavy holding her in place, she frowned, looking down at the bedclothes. They were pulled tight around her breasts, which seemed… bigger. Much bigger. She’d gone from an E to… something well beyond. Damp circles were forming on the cloth around her nipples. Muzzily, she wondered why she was sweating there, and how.
Then the rest of the scene hit her, and she froze. She reached out her fingers, and tentatively poked the bedclothes. She encountered warm, yielding flesh.
Below her breasts, the blankets rose in a big, round dome. She pulled the blankets aside, and stared.
Then she poked it again.
She replayed the events on the island in her mind.
“WHAT THE FUCK?”
* * *
Several hours later, after trying to work out what had happened, she had got out of bed – awkwardly, because it was amazing how hard it was to move when your center of gravity was waaaaay off, and examined her new shape.
Okay, she had to admit that she wasn’t quite as big as she’d thought. That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t big, mind you. Her belly was big enough to hold a gnome, as far as she could tell, a little more elongated than purely round, too. It hung low and heavy, and she could feel pressure on the skin beneath her engorged breasts. They rested heavily to either side of that impressive swell, and had developed a fine tracery of veins. Her areola, usually a deep grey-blue, were now a rich, dark browinish-black, and her nipples, which had previously been the size of her little finger, were now like plump strawberries, and constantly leaking a yellowish-clear fluid that careful examination had revealed was watery but slightly sweet. She couldn’t remember what breastmilk tasted like, but she was fairly sure it wasn’t as sweet as what was leaking from her engorged tits.
A cursory feel around the huge orb of her apparent pregnancy had revealed that her bellybutton was also sticking out, and had something slightly cool and faintly angular hanging from a piercing through it. She couldn’t see it – the furthest she could see on her belly was the dark line bisecting it top-to -bottom – but she was willing to bet it was a ruby.
Worse, she was horny as hell right now, only made worse by how damn good stroking the skin of her heavy belly felt, she had nothing to wear, and was pretty sure no cute girls were going to want to fuck her like this. Which was a shame, because every time she stopped thinking about it, she was entertaining an idea at the back of her mind that she was exceptionally sexy.
There was a knock on the door.
“Uh, Lenora, are you alright?” The voice was the captain, but subdued.
“Peachy,” she called back, poking her belly with a finger, “Jes a few… um… side effects from th’ island.”
“I… I wanted to talk to you about that,” he sounded like that was actually the last thing that he wanted, really.
“Um… Och, hell…” Well, he’d already seen her naked, and masturbating furiously as she watched Arielle… “Look, come in, jus’ you, an’… brace yerself.”
He came in. he looked at her. His eyes widened.
“What the fuck?”
“Aye, tha’s what I said,” she sighed. He walked around her, staring. For once, she didn’t feel like he was eyeing her up in a sexual manner, despite her nudity. It actually irritated her a bit.
“I’m no a plate o’ meat,” she snapped, putting her hands on her hips.
“Sorry, I just… Was this the idol?”
“I bloody well ‘ope it was, because ‘ow many cursed artifacts are there around ‘ere otherwise?”
He caught her tone, and then his eyes widened.
“I was so caught up in… you need clothes! Oh Light, I’m sorry, Len, I didn’t register you were naked.”
“Okay, so, word tae th’ wise, lad – an’ we’ll let it slide because I’m nae interested in yeh sexually – most naked lassies dinnae appreciate people not noticin’ when they’re eyein’ them up.”
“I am so sorry. Look, we’ll find you someone to take care of this, I just…”
A pang of fear hit Lenora. She rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the tightness of the skin beneath – and idly noting just how nice that rubbing felt, and voiced her concern. “Wha’ about Arielle? Is she OK?”
“She’s fine. She… she was actually what I needed to talk to you about… before this.”
Sighing, Lenora lowered herself into a chair, which creaked alarmingly, and gestured for Ferstald to sit on the bed. He did, somewhat gingerly.
“Look, um, I know you liked… like Arielle,” he began, wincing at his fumbled words.
“Pregnant lad – I think – no’ dead. Like.”
“Aye. I mean, yes. Well, um… I invited her to my cabin before we went to the island, for… um… you know.”
“To fuck ‘er senseless,” Lenora supplied, shifting in her seat. Gods, she was horny.
“…um, yes. Well, I guess she misunderstood. She… uh… she wasn’t interested.”
“She seemed plenty interested on th’ island,” Lenora pointed out, dryly.
“Before she burred her face in your pussy?” Ferstald’s response was equally dry.
“Valid. So, she dinnae want yeh?”
“She was polite about it, but she told me she was more interested in… well, in ‘the shy dwarf’.”
Lenora’s heart soared at that. She liked that girl, liked her a lot, and the things she could do with her tongue..
“Um,” the embarrassed noise brought her back to herself, and the realization that one hand was happily rubbing her taut belly, while the other was milking one overfull breast. She blushed.
“Sorry. This body ‘as a mind of its own.”
Ferstald cleared his throat, and his face was pale as he continued.
“Well, she’ll probably have different ideas now, I imagine,” he said with a sigh. “Light, how am I going to explain this to the crew. They’ll never trust me again…”
Something inside Lenora snapped at that. Up until now, she had faced anger, she had spent futile minutes trying to convince herself this was a dream, she had offered prayers to the Titans – hell, even Ragnaros – and she had cried. She had run a huge gamut of emotions while she struggled to get her swollen body out of bed. Right now, she was torn between furious, self-conscious, embarrassed and horny.
“Yeh… yeh self-centered piece o’ shit,” she hissed, eyes blazing orange.
“What?”
“Yeh heard me,” she hauled herself upright, almost instantly regretting it as the weight of her belly pulled her forwards, and attempted to stalk towards him. It was very much more of an angry waddle, and she couldn’t help but notice how much she had to swing her hips. She’d seen prostitutes put less work into making their walks sensual. Of course, they hadn’t had a big, swollen, heavy… fertile… womanly… She shook her head, clearing the rising pink fog and focusing on the red fire of anger instead. She leant forward to prod him in the chest, but her belly got in the way and she ended up just ramming the immense, heavy swell it into his crotch. There was no reaction from that area, which she was half glad and half incensed about. Sure, she didn’t want him, but damn, she looked so good… No, she really did. The hell with it.
“’E’re I am, lookin’ like a… a… “ fertility loa, girl …”like a bloody fertility goddess, naked, huge-breasted an’ practically drippin’, I’m so lubed up right noo, an’ all yeh c’n think aboot is what the crew will think of you?”
“I have a reputation!” he snapped back, looking like a cornered rabbit. He was freaked out by all this. Supernatural curses were pretty much page one of the buccaneer’s handbook (metaphorically speaking – he’d have been the first to admit that any such book would be written in large, crayon letters, with lots of pictures, probably on the back of beer mats), and he’d experienced a fair few. Crew turning to skeletons, crew forbidden from stepping on dry land, crew turned into hozen, crew followed by obese and smelly seagull… these were normal. Members of the crew made enormously pregnant? No, that wasn’t the sort of thing you normally encountered. Plus, when that crew member was the hot lesbian dark iron you’d been trying to turn bi through the magical powers of a good deep dicking, and he was pretty sure she was good for it, despite her hesitation, because otherwise why did she keep flaunting her tits and ass at him, honestly? Hell, she was grinding against his cock right now, and maybe he’d have enjoyed it, at that, even with her body being all… Darkmoon Faire funhouse… There was a time and a place for things, and this was the time and place for protecting his good name!
“I’ve been good,” he continued, trying to meet her glare – which was hard, nothing can glare quite like people with burning orange eyes – and steeled himself. “Sure, I sleep around a bit, but I only do it with willing women, and I am careful, really careful, to never knock them up. Hell, I have never lost control like I did yesterday, thanks to that damn idol, so imagine what people will think when they see you on my ship?”
If the volcano had been simmering before, there were the sort of rumbles that sent the locals looking for a virgin to sacrifice now.
“What they will think?” she hissed, “what they will think? Yeh think I’d even suggest this was yeh? ‘Ow many times? I. Like. Lassies. It’s no’ a hard concept tae grasp. I feel like I ‘ave tae ram it down throats all th’ bloody time. D’yeh know, I am a deep an’ caring person? Wi’ hobbies? Wi’ interests other than shaggin’ hot wimmin?” Oh Gods, she wanted Arielle… what would the Draenei think of her like this? No, later, focus. “I’m nae jus’ those three words, but I ‘ave tae say them OVER an’ OVER again because yer too damn stubborn tae get them. I wouldnae fuck yeh if yeh were the last man alive, because I dinnae want tae fuck men. Got it?”
“And how, exactly, are other people going to know that? When they see you on my ship, looking ready to pop out a litter, what are they going to think?” he put on a high falsetto as he continued, “Oh, look! There’s Lenora, she likes girls, so she couldn’t possibly have been knocked up by the captain, because pregnancies don’t require a man to happen.”
Lenora deflated slightly. She was panting, her copious chest heaving, and her belly rubbing back and forth against his crotch in a way that, yes, was starting to make him hard – because, quite frankly, anything rubbing a cock for long enough will do that.
“Well… damn.”
He had a point.
She turned, waddling back to her chair, and flumped down with another loud creak.
“So, what d’we do about it?” she asked, with a sigh.
“Well,” he began, looking at her anew. Honestly, he’d never considered pregnancy attractive at all, but her breasts were, after all, huge, and… He shook his head in confusion. That wasn’t right, he really didn’t find her new shape sexy. It was that bloody idol. It may have vanished, but the curse was still there, clinging to Lenora like an albatross around the neck of a doomed sailor.
Well, there was a cure for that, right enough. It was drastic, he had to admit, and it would hurt his reputation… just not as much as she would. He took a deep breath.
“There is one solution that presents itself,” he began.
Lenora sighed. Here it came. Sleep with the captain.
“It’s drastic, and messy, and it’ll involve a lot of fumbling in the dark…”
“I’m no interested in shaggin’…” she began.
“…Mutiny!” he finished, spreading his arms wide to emphasize his dramatic triumph, then blinked. “What?”
She stared at him, open mouthed.
“Wait, what?!”
“Mutiny?” he tried again, less sure of himself.
Lenora pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Drastic, aye. Messy, mebbe, I get tha’. But… fumblin’ in the dark?”
“Well, did you plan on staging a mutiny stark naked?”
“I wasnae actually plannin’ on… och, sure, why not, it’s no’ the most ridiculous thing I’ve ‘eard today.” She folded her hands on her belly, fingers splayed, and absently stroked the top of that taut, warm swell as she thought about it.
“Alright,” she finally agreed, “So mutiny. We find sommat I can wear – which I dinnae think will be easy – an’ I mutiny. Then what?”
“We put you in a boat and cast you adrift,” he continued, raising a finger to forestall her response. “It’s more sensible than it sounds,”
“Tha’s good, because it sounds bloody stupid. I’m no dyin’ alone in a boat at sea.”
“No, you won’t, because beforehand I prepare the boat with a decent cut of my treasure. Enough to buy a nice cottage, or a reasonable small ship of your own. It’s the least I can do. I’ll also include this… “ and he held up a worn white stone with a blue spiral on. “It’s set to the Snug Harbor Inn in Boralis,” he added.
Lenora looked at him with fresh respect. “Tha’s… actually astonishin’ly generous.”
“I am a man of honour,” the pirate protested.
* * *
As it played out, Ferstald was right. Getting her clothes that fitted involved a lot of fumbling in the dark. The captain turned out to be a dab-hand with a needle and thread. Some sailcloth, some spare leather, and the addition of some stretchy panels to a pair of her old pants later, and she had something that was actually a fairly nice outfit. Not decent, in any way shape or form, but not bad. The pants clung a lot, and she was forced to admit that her backside had grown with her belly, but… well, she was a dwarf. A round backside was something you were used to from puberty, and a little rounder… well, it could have been worse. The front of them had to be tugged pretty far down, and worn unlaced. She’d managed to get him to make her some panties, too, made from her old shirt. They covered next to nothing – just enough, in fact, to entice. She secretly loved them. He’d rigged her up what he insisted on referring to as a “boob hammock,” and she had been almost disappointed he’d not copped a feel when measuring. Which was stupid, because she wasn’t the least bit interested, but she had a little bit of vanity left. Over the top of her prodigiously swollen pregnant body, he tugged one of his old frock coats, which he adjusted as best he could. It hung smoothly down her back, hiding how much she was arching it to keep her belly from digging into the waistband of her pants, and as a result she looked even larger. She was wearing a button-up white shirt underneath, and could feel the breeze through the gaping diamonds down the front. A deep breath would probably do some serious button-shrapnel damage. The final step was a tricorn hat, which he put on her flame-red hair. There was no mirror, but he nodded at her approvingly.
“Right,” he said, “your own mother wouldn’t recognize you.”
Lenora looked down at the swollen breasts and the huge belly, in their straining covering, and found she had to agree.
“Right, so play along, and when I’m done introducing you, call for mutiny. It’ll work, trust me.”
“The more yeh go into – for want o’ a better word – details, the worse it sounds,” Lenora sighed.
“Trust me. When have I ever lead you astray?”
“Well, there was this island wi’ a cursed statue,” she began.
“Come on.”
* * *
There was a crowd gathered on deck. They were staring at Lenora. Everyone on the ship was there – including Arielle, who looked lost and confused, and a little hurt for some reason. Once again, Lenora couldn’t help notice just how female-heavy the crew was. The image of that troll city, with all the pregnant women, floated through her head. There was a warm, not mocking, laugh that joined it. She shook it away. Some of the men were looking at her with unwanted desire, some with confusion, some with mild disgust. She wasn’t particularly happy about any of those.
“Crew,” the captain began, heartily, “This here is my Niece, Lenora, who…”
Lenora closed her eyes, cheeks burning. Even as she did so, she heard a loud slapping sound, as if every member of the crew at once had slapped their palm to their face. She peeked, and nodded to herself. Yep.
From the back of the crowd, she could hear a grumbling male voice “Again? Bloody captains, think we’re stupid. I suppose this one’s a cross-dresser too?”
She ignored this, and offered a fervent prayer that the deck would swallow her. The boards creaked a bit sympathetically as she shifted her weight, and she mentally glared at them too. It’s baby weight, yeh wooden bastards. Oh gods, that was a point, and one she’d been avoiding thinking about… what WAS inside her?
“My Niece, Lenora,” the captain snapped, glaring at them, “whom none of you have met and who just happens to look like our crewmate with the same name and I can HEAR you chuckling, Vanel, shut up. She joined us at the last port…”
“That deserted island, you mean?” a voice piped up helpfully.
“The last port, and… oh, bugger it. “
Lenora sighed, and pulled the pistol he’d given her. It snagged on her shirt and, with a rip, one of the buttons came off. This was followed by a rapid-fire series of rips and pings as the poor strained fabric gave up, and buttons flew everywhere. Several of the nearest sailors ducked. She felt a draft across the skin of her huge belly, and closed her eyes for a moment as her libido surged. It was like a caress. Struggling to gather herself, she brandished the pistol.
“Enough o’ this,” she said, with hearty feeling that she didn’t need to fake, “Th’ captain… I mean, my uncle… I mean, och, fuck it. THIS IS A MUTINY!”
* * *
Lenora shifted to better support her weight. The downside to her immense pregnancy was that it was hell on the back, and she felt the creaking boards were just mocking her. Around her, the crew tightened their grip on their weapons. She sighed. The mutiny had gone even less well than she had anticipated.
“Look,” she told the captain, a tone of conciliatory pleading in her voice, “I told yeh it was a stupid idea.”
Ferstald stared at her with disbelieving eyes.
“I mean, yeh had to realise tha’ whole story was possibly th’ worst concoction ever. I’m a bloody dwarf, fer th’ love o’ th’ Light. ‘Ow could I be yer niece? ‘Old on, would yeh?” this was directed at one of the sailors holding the painter to the boat, “I’m nae done talkin’.”
“Well, marriage, or something,” the captain snapped back at her.
She sighed, waiting patiently as several other sailors got into the longboat.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to support you at all,” he hissed.
“Aye, well, they’ll get wha’s comin’ tae them,” she said, slightly morosely.
“Now, Cap’n?” Arielle, gripping her cutlass and glaring at the prisoners in the longboat, asked.
Ferstald and Lenora shared a look. It spoke volumes. Apologies for the way things had ended, for stupid plans and bad fallout.
“Aye,” Lenora said, “but put th’ cutlass down, aye? Ferstald’s a good man. Cast off!”
The boat was pushed away. Lenora was happy to see the treasure chest was shoved under the seat as planned. The hearthstone was in there, too, but it probably wasn’t going to help with five other sailors in the boat too. Poor Ferstald. Well, at least some of the crew had supported him.
“Right,” Captain Lenora Saltbraids said, straightening up and rubbing her swollen belly as she watched the boat drift away, “I could use some grub, an’ then we’ll see if one o’ these islands ‘as anythin’ worth plunderin’, aye?”
Her almost all-female crew, along with the three remaining men who had seen which way the wind was blowing, cheered her. Arielle, her new first mate, gave her a look through heavy lidded eyes that made her weak at the knees.
“I’ll take mine in me cabin,” she added, “Arielle, care tae join me?”
“Please,” the draenei purred.
* * *
Lenora took a swig from her mug. Like a proper pirate mug, it was carved into a skull. It was filled with milk, of course, but… it had the proper threatening air about it. The milk was sweet, and still warm. Well, that was hardly surprising, considering she had it on tap, so to speak.
She shifted her weight in the chair. It wasn’t very comfortable. Her belly was pressing against the sides, compressing it forward and making it seem larger still, and her butt was perched right on the edge. She had shoved cushions behind her to ease her back, and they were only partially working. Right, a new chair was on the top of her list. She rubbed the taut skin of her belly, cooing. That felt so good. For the first time since the curse had hit her, she was allowing herself to feel sexy. A fire was burning in her, and she was ready to give in to her lusts.
“Wha’ I don’t understand,” she asked, shifting slightly more, “is why yeh looked so sad an’ hurt when I showed up wi’ the captain.”
Arielle paused, sliding the unbuckled boots over her hooves. They had no soles, and for a moment Lenora idly wondered what the point of them was.
“I thought… silly, but I thought you were wanting him, yes?”
Lenora stared at her.
“I’ve been talkin’ tae m’ bloody self, apparently. Lassie, I dinnae like men.”
Arielle brightened noticeably, sliding off her shirt. Lenora practically drooled as she looked at the draenei’s breasts. Light, they were perfect. Big and firm, slightly distended by gravity, and topped with those perky, sweet nipples. The draenei blushed, adorably, holding her hands behind her back and tracing a hoof across the floor. Lenora thought it might just be the sexiest thing she’d seen.
“You are… gorgeous,” Arielle said, softly, “And I thought… I have been wanting to approach you, but I was afraid you were not liking girls. You were always showing off for the capt… er, for Ferstald, after all.”
“No’ intentionally,” Lenora assured her. Arielle was undressing the dwarf with her eyes… well, that was hardly tricky, Lenora had to admit. She’d opened her poor, embattled shirt to milk herself, and her swollen breasts sat proudly on her heavy belly. She’d also squirmed out of her leggings, for comfort, so the only thing covering her sex was a red, silky heart. The shirt and coat hung open, framing her immense pregnancy.
“You are… forgive me,” Arielle purred, sliding off her own leggings. There was nothing beneath them, just the draenei’s cleanshaven pussy, pouting and eager. Lenora licked her lips. “You are… beautiful.”
“Och, thank yeh lassie. Yer pretty much th’ sexiest an’ most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Lenora told her, honestly.
The draenei swayed across the room. Her tail lashed back and forth, keeping her balance. Like she’s got built-in high heels, Lenora thought, tweaking one of her nipples with anticipation.
“No, I am serious,” Arielle said, her voice a soft, exotic, breathy whisper that made Lenora’s clit twitch, “I thought so before, but now… You are womanly. Fertile. Such big breasts, so full and round, and that belly, so large, so prrrregnant,” she rolled the R in a way that made Lenora’s breath catch. Her chest was heaving, breasts wobbling on her belly.
“Uh, I take it yeh like th’ belly?”
Arielle placed her hands on Lenora’s knees, sliding gracefully to the ground, The dwarf could only see her eyes, the glowing symbol that floated atop her head, and her horns over the immense swells of belly and breast. Softly, almost reverently, Arielle began to kiss her belly.
“I am very much liking the belly,” she purred, “I took your advice and drank the potion, but I regret it. If I could be as prrrregnant as you…” For a moment, Lenora could imagine it. The slender draenei’s form swollen out, hugely distended, her already large breasts filled with milk, wobbling heavily to either side of it, her pussy, swollen and pouting…
The kisses worked slowly lower, starting from her sensitive bellybutton and working down, down…
“I would be in heaven,” the draenei continued, “I would worship at your altar, yes?”
Her voice became muffled as she took Lenora’s panties in her teeth, pulling them down. Lenora tried to reach out to hold Arielle’s horns, but her belly was in the way. She settled for stroking it, and her motions became more eager as, once again, she realized just how sensitive her skin was.
“Worship…” Lenora whispered, half to herself. It was odd, there was a slight echo to her words.
“Yes,” Arielle breathed, tracing her fingertips over Lenora’s engorged vulva. Pregnancy had done wonderful things to this dwarf, and she was in pure ecstasy exploring this swollen, womanly body. Parting the lips, she eyed the dwarf’s pulsing clit, a little bud among the fleshy petals. Gently, she flicked out her tongue, a quick and snake-like motion. The tip curled briefly over that nub, and Arielle closed her eyes for a moment in bliss. She could barely remember the events on the island, and had felt Lenora would feel betrayed in some way, but she was sure the dwarf had never tasted this good before. Her moist pussy was oddly sweet, like nectar.
“Yeh want tae be pregnant too, lassie?” Lenora breathed, trembling as little electric shocks travelled from her pussy through her whole body. She’d never, ever felt like this during sex before. It was sublime. No wonder wimmin get knocked up! She thought, gasping. She didn’t notice the slightly accented echo to her words.
“Yesss,” Lenora breathed, and the air against her sensitive folds sent more shocks of pleasure through her.
“Lassie, yer killin’ me here,” Lenora moaned.
Arielle darted her tongue into her once more, and then began to eat her out in earnest. She pressed her lips against Lenora’s clit, and hummed something the dwarf couldn’t understand… but she could feel. Lenora nearly came on the spot, and things only improved from there. The beautiful, big-eyed, innocent looking draenei very definitely knew her way around a pussy. Lenora, pinned to the chair by her huge belly, unable to reach the draenei, pawed at her heavy breasts and swollen belly, leaving pale handmarks on the skin, and let out low, eager moans of pure bliss. She was too pregnant to do anything else, she thought, and it was a beautiful torment.
It felt like an eternity of paradise, the pleasure building in her like waves lapping the shore – like Arielle’s tongue lapping her most private, sensitive treasure – and when it broke, her orgasm was explosive. With one final lick that built the trembling aftershocks back up into another, less impressive but still intense orgasm, the draenei lifted her head, resting her chin on her partner’s huge, round pregnancy. She slid her hands to either side of it as she licked the drops from her face, never breaking eye contact.
Lenora couldn’t even speak, she grabbed the draenei by the horns, not caring, and dragged her in for an eager, passionate kiss. She nearly came again as the draenei’s large breasts brushed her belly, those perky nipples tracking lines of fire over her skin.
“Granted,” she moaned around Arielle’s tongue.
“What?” Arielle asked, breaking the kiss for a moment in confusion.
“Wha’?” Lenora asked in reply, looking equally confused.
“You said… something. And your voice was sounding funny,” Arielle replied.
“Mouth full. Needs tae be full again. Kiss me, an’ then I’ll return the favour,” Lenora moaned, reaching for her again.
* * *
Six months had passed on the ship. Lenora, whose body hadn’t changed at all in that time, sat in her new, larger, far more comfortable chair. She had one leg dangling over the arm, and was sipping milk from the mug again. The chair was on the poop deck, giving her a fine view of her crew, and a better view of the orgy before the mast. The three men who had stayed with her crew had, thanks to some careful recruiting, been joined by several more, and they were making merry with every willing member of her female crew except Arielle. She smiled fondly, watching as naked women with swollen breasts and gently rounded bellies of various sizes, from the barely showing to the few who were obviously blessed with multiples, and looked almost at term already, rode cock like experts.
Well, there had been plenty of practice.
“I never thought I’d become a captain so fast,” she purred, closing her eyes for a moment as Arielle’s tongue worked her magic. Her first mate, now as pregnant as Lenora looked, and just as immaculately so, rubbed her heavy belly lovingly as she tongue-fucked her captain.
“My captain always comes fast,” the draenei purred.
Lenora laughed. “Aye, well, yeh seem tae be fond o’ that too.”
Arielle grinned at her, and turned her eyes to the orgy below.
“The crew are liking your new rules,” she purred, rising lithely to her hooves and rubbing her belly against Lenora. The captain’s eyes closed as pure pleasure washed over her.
The front of the ship bore a new figurehead, a nude and very pregnant dwarf that looked the image of her captain. As laughter and cries of passion rang out, the newly christened Mamma Er’zuli cut through the waves, and within Lenora’s belly, the quiescent Loa basked in the glory of her worshippers.
