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Sunday, July 27, 2014

Going Native by Perspikay and Friend!

Hi all, this is a collaborative story I wrote with my friend Perspikay! If you like it and wanna read more work like it, check out her DA at
Going Native

The room was charged with joviality as the guests mingled and mixed with each other, cocktail glasses clenched tightly as the champagne popped and flowed, the dulcet sound of the harpist playing a lullaby to the museum’s newest acquisition. But even as the bodies milled around him, all Professor Sienkiewicz could do was gently adjust his glasses as he gazed up in astonishment at the enormous totem that loomed above them. He’d never dreamed he’d be able to see it in the flesh. 12 feet of magnificent, polished obsidian shone and glimmered in the gallery’s soft lighting, every angle and corner designed to guide the eye across the ivory relief figures that embedded themselves on it’s surface. He blushed as he gawked at multitudes of sculpted women, their exaggerated impossible forms exhibiting massive hips and bulbous breasts - and occasionally - gravid pregnant bellies, clearly denoting some sort of hyper fertility. They were all frozen in some sort of dance, a ritual, around a ferocious male figure at the centre of the totem, his enormous member towering over a woman who was kneeling low in supplication, his own groin tingling slightly..

    “Wow.” a voice next to him gasped. “It’s so… expressive.”

    He’d been so absorbed he hadn’t noticed Janice’s presence. He whipped around to find his favourite student gawking up at the totem with the same look of hushed reverence on her face, absently twisting her ponytail around her finger. When he’d been invited to help the museum curate the Kerezala Totem for the gala, he couldn’t help but bring her along as well. She’d spent years researching her thesis on the Mutabwe people, their sudden flourishing golden age and mysterious collapse.

    “I still can’t believe it’s real.” Janice said. “I mean I’ve seen the pictures, but to actually see it face to face.. a totem from the Mutabwe high period this well preserved.. Just look at the details on the figures! The poses feel like they’re leaping out at me, they look so realistic despite all the exaggerations.”

     “Yes. it’s breathtaking.” The Professor answered. “I didn’t think any still existed.”

    “What do those characters around the base of the totem say..?”

    “It was some sort of proverb, I think. “The strong will grow stronger while the lesser will quench their hunger” His eyes darted back to the central figure and his lips tightened into a barely hidden smirk. “I have a few guesses as to what it means.”

    “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Hannah giggled as she butted in between the two of them and sipped on her glass of champagne. “Honey, you need to tear your eyes off that statue for more than a minute. This is a party, remember? You two look like zombies standing there!”

    For a moment Professor Sienkiewicz was stunned at the contrast between his wife and the student, her t-shirt and jeans making a night and day difference with Hannah’s dignified little black dress. Yet, she was always so alive and perky at these sorts of events, she even looked younger, the glow of excitement evident in her face, her own enjoyment of events like these shining through her. They’d met on a dig site years ago, back when he’d still been active in the field himself - the bright, attractive girl asking him question after question about whatever relics he’d had to hand, showing genuine interest in his work. Together they’d made a perfect match - his knowledge and research, allied to her own interest and growing knowledge as well as her enjoyment of social events like this, had been the main reason he’d managed to get this appointment in the first place, and create the collection that he had. It was as much her baby as his.

     She deftly hooked her lithe arm around her husband’s and tugged insistently. “C’mon honey.”  She grinned. “There’s some people I want you to meet.” With a gentle look of resignation the Professor stumbled along attached to his wife, looking back at his student glibly waving at the two of them and chuckling to herself. “Have fun, sir” she smiled, before turning back and circling the totem to inspect it closer, her breath fogging the glass as she leaned in.

    There was a large mix of academia and upper crust society populating the gala, even though it had been intended to be a small function, the guest list had unwittingly ballooned out of control. But it was the first guest on the list that Hannah beelined for, the man who the totem was on loan from and who had originally acquired it for his private collection. Barrel chested and tall, he cut a strong figure for a man in his late 50’s, his silvery hair well matched to his dark olive complexion. His hands gesturing extravagantly as he expounded to the small group of guests trying to hide their boredom, Basil Kinnock (or “sir” Kinnock - the professor could never remember how those titles worked ) the old familiar story drifted through the room to the Professor’s ears. He, of course, had been intimately involved in every step of the process, finding, cataloguing, researching; there had been no step of the totem’s journey from desert sands to its position at rest on the high podium which hadn’t involved him to some degree. Inwardly he scoffed. Oh, in appearance he was everything the public might think of when asked to imagine an elder statesman of archaeology, still active in the field, but if his actual work was anything like the time he’d put in with the Professor the only time he had dust on his boots was when he’d left them to rest stored away in a cupboard somewhere. Not that he would risk a blemish on those expensive Italian loafers.

    “Ahh! Kieran!” Basil shouted to the professor as he reluctantly drifted to the front of the crowd. “And Hannah. It’s truly an honour to be blessed with not one, but two of the most preeminent experts in the Mutabwe culture. Besides myself, of course.”

    “Mmhmm, we’re very grateful you invited us, Sir Kinnock. The only reason my husband hasn’t had the time to thank you already is because he was so busy studying the artefact.” Hannah groaned. “I practically had to drag him away from the thing.”

    “Now now, it’s not every day one gets to be exposed to a fully preserved Mutabwe Totem!” Basil exclaimed bombastically. “Though with such a fine creature on his arm it’s quite curious how Kieran could find the time to tear himself away.”

    Hannah tittered nervously at his compliment, butterflies forming in her stomach as she took another long sip of the cool red wine. She’d been feeling the usual giddiness that heralded any evening like this, even before she’d entered the room, but after she saw the totem she’d been feeling truly ecstatic. The totem was going to revolutionize her field of study and she had Basil to thank for it, even if he would take all the credit. She shifted on her high heels slightly as he leaned in to take her tiny hand in his own, before shaking Kieran’s forcefully.

    “Well then, now that you’ve had your inspection, what do you two think the totem was meant to symbolize?”

    “Well..” Hannah said. “It seems that it’s clearly used in some sort of fertility ritual, most likely entailing a, well, orgy of some sort.” She blushed. “The inscription at the bottom seems to imply that the central figure is divinely powerful, holding command over and providing nourishment to the women that please him.”
    Basil seemed pleased with this explanation, when the Professor began to speak. “An alternative theory we’ve also been working on is that the inscription is a warning, the central male being some sort of demonic figure, a spirit of unchained lust who feeds off the souls of the weak. Only by being appeased is the demon sated, keeping him at bay.”

    Kinnock rubbed his chin and went silent for a moment, before breaking into a beaming grin. “Both of these interpretations would answer so many of the questions we have about the Mutabwe culture! I do hope you’ll stay on and continue studying the totem. It really is quite fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Truthfully, I know I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of it!” Laughing softly, Hannah tossed her head back towards the display, at the younger girl still studying it. “It’s just so interesting!” The Professor chuckled inwardly, his wife’s curiosity and interest still so strong even after all these years.

    “Well, I don’t want to tie up either of you too much! Please, go and enjoy yourselves! The totem and all of the study it entails will still be here when the party finishes!” The man grinned, slapping Kieran on the shoulder with his thick hand. The two of them looked at each other and smiled dreamily as they wandered back off into the crowd, Basil turning back to speak to some other dilettante who’d bother to listen to his story.   


As the night went on, the alcohol began to flow more generously and freely. The pale cheeks of the attendants turned rosy and bright in the sterile air of the gallery, the wine increasing both in volume and quantity. Kieran was himself nursing a half drunk martini glass in his hand as his wife slumped her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He could catch a glimpse of his favourite pupil giggling into her drink at the bar, her ponytail somewhat messy and yet neatly curled around her neck. It seemed like the atmosphere of the entire party had been slowing down into a calm and drunken stupor. Even the harpist was beginning to haphazardly miss notes as she tugged at the stringed instrument, her bemused face giving her a tipsy air.

In the centre of the room, Basil stood, his raised voice still continuing on his favourite theme, interrupted now and then by the giggles of the small group that stood around him, listening intently.

As the Professor and his Wife slow danced to the sound of the harp stringing them along, they both waltzed past the totem, the obsidian looking for all the world as if it was sparkling. Hannah’s lidded eyes perked up as she gazed across the slutty figures playing with each other on the totem, smirking as her eyes drifted to the appalling ivory cock poking out so rudely. Suddenly she felt...really thirsty. She lazily twirled her fingers in circles on the back of Kieran’s neck as she giggled.

“Kieerraannn.. Get me a drink.”

“Get it yourself.”

“Poo, you’re no fun!” Hannah chuckled as she pushed Kieran away, her tipsy husband almost losing his balance for a moment as she tried to make her way over to the bar. It was just that her heels were so high and her dress was clinging so tightly to her sweaty body, forcing her to mince and strut with every step she took. It didn’t help that her dress was also so very short, letting everyone see the exposed camel toe on her panties as she swished and swayed across the room.

Janice waved a lazy hand as the other woman stepped up to the bar next to her. “Hi! This is such a great party, i’m having so much fun!” Hannah slumped on the bartop, grinning over at the girl. Suddenly she just felt so top-heavy… maybe she had had too much to drink after all. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it!” Her hand drifted slowly over to hold the other girl’s. “My husband always said you were his best student, so of course we had to invite you to come!” Behind the bar, the young bartender slid two more glasses over, Hannah greedily grabbing hers to poor the cool liquid down her throat. Beside her she heard the choking sound change to a giggle, Janice’s strained t-shirt dribbling with red wine that has missed her mouth. “Oopsie.”

    Hannah smiled. “Oh, don’t worry. You know, in ancient cultures, being so eager that you spill some food or drink was a sign of how much you were enjoying yourself.” Under her eyes, one drip of the crimson liquid rolled across the small dark stain, on the crest of the round chest beneath it. “If you want, you could always go in the back somewhere, i’m sure I have some old clothes you could change into if you wanted lying around here somewhere!”

    “No, it’s ok.” Her finger dipping to collect the drop, all three women’s eyes followed it as it became an unconscious little caress, a stiff peak rising to poke out of the material. “It’s only a cultural thing, right? I mean, so are clothes, too. I could be completely naked if I really wanted!” The new wine glass quickly placed served just right to salve Hannah’s dry throat. “Has anyone ever told you how.. how young you look? I mean, for your age. You could probably pass as my sister!”

Hannah almost choked into her drink as well, but managed to gracefully down the wine in a fluid gulp. “Oh hush, don’t tease me like that. I’m old enough to be your mother.” Janice just grinned and twirled her lengthening ponytail around her fingers. “I’m serious! You look amazinngg~. Hee hee, this whole conversation is reminding me about all those weird anomalies about Mutabwe culture.” Hannah pursed her lips and ordered another drink. “You mean like how after the high period the Mutabwe seemed to just abandon clothes?”

Janice nodded eagerly as if her head was on a swivel. “Yeah! Or how after a while the only remains that are found are just breeding age females. It’s like, where did all the men go? Or the older women and stuff? Spooky right?” Hannah just rolled her eyes and arched her back, her dress barely straining to encapsulate her swelling bust. “Those are just myths Jan, they wouldn’t stand up to any academic rigour. We just haven’t found enough samples yet.”

“I know, right, I mean, how could a culture get by without any men? It just wouldn’t work.” Eyes glazed slightly as she put her glass back on the bartop. “They couldn’t go without… I mean, it makes no sense.”

Hannah kicked her heels off as she curled her legs up onto the chair, nursing her glass between her massive cleavage. Between them the bartender was delivering up fresh glasses almost on autopilot now. “I know what you mean.” Leaning forward unsteadily, she shot Janice a conspiratorial glance, the other girl’s eyes blinking between her own and the wobbling flesh contained in the tight dress beneath. “Just between us girls, I’ve been considering asking my husband to avoid any more speaking tours. It’s just so… difficult to get by without him there.”

Three heads turned as renewed laughter broke out in the centre of the hall, Basil’s grey-touched head visible above the gathering of female admirers. It was seeing Janice’s gaping mouth out of the corner of her eye that led Hannah to realise she too had been staring. Both girls shivered; the harpist seemed to have found her rhythm again, but her repeated low plucks seemed more like a heartbeat than music, the busy tones almost in sync with the pulses within their chests.
“I seem to have missed you, my dear.” The Professor’s slim hands rested on his wife’s shoulders, the cool skin on her own heat feeling delicious. “I thought you were going to be right back.” He stepped out between his wife and his student, Hannah beaming up at the youthful figure and boyish face.

“Kieran!” Hannah squealed girlishly, twisting around and causing the wine glass nestled in the valley of her boobs to slip, a dark red stain forming against the front of her dress and her husband’s tight fitting suit. “Oopsie. I’m so sorry dear, I just got mixed up in this chat with Janice and the drinks kept coming and I.. and.. I just lost track of the time.” She giggled and wrapped her arms back around her husband’s shoulders, leaning in close and biting down on her plush lower lip. “To be entirely honest though..” she whispered. “I think that lewd totem is getting me all kinds of frisky.. I can hardly think..” her pert nose was pressing against his. “...maybe we should have a little historical recreation later tonight.”

Janice blushed and shifted her gaze downwards, her finger idly tracing the rim of her wine glass. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy and disappointment as she watched the married couple embrace, but she couldn’t tell why. Certainly she’d never felt attracted to the Professor before, but in the dim faded lighting he looked.. kinda cute. So did Hannah for that matter, and her brow furrowed. She closed her eyes and tried to shake those weird thoughts away, her mind instead drifting to the totem, the glorious ivory reliefs so delicately carved and polished. In the light of the hall, it almost seemed to glow with some inner light - but then again, she giggled, she had had a lot to drink. Her eyes followed one heavy curve, her finger on the wine glass drawing languorously round, describing the arcing line in relief. She’d always considered herself blessed with her own voluptuous body, she idly thought as the thick thighs pushed together at the sudden dampness between them, but “blessed” was the wrong word for anything that wasn’t the hypersexualised forms gracing the artefact. Beside her the couple finally came up for air, both faces flushed red.

“Welcome back! My turn?” The three laughed, heads swimming with wine. One swift foot darted out as if to close the gap between the Professor and Janice, but withdrew after some effort, the man’s long hair swinging as he turned. “I think rather not. Still, I came over here for more reason than to simply kiss my wife - not that that is ever a difficult task.” The two smiled at each other as if newlyweds. “I had hoped to introduce my most promising student to a dear friend of mine.” His head swivelled out to examine the room, bright blue eyes flashing despite his hazy mind. Basil still stood centre, besieged by the chattering group around him as he spun his tales, flashing a dazzling white smile at every obsequious laugh. He wasn’t such a bad sport really, and if nothing else even he could understand how the strong jawline and handsome, olive complexion could entice young students to consider a career in archaeology… but he’d been looking for someone. “He seems to have stepped out for the moment, alas.” Certainly he wasn’t present among the bevy of women gathered around Basil, nor one of the couples poking happily at the glass displays around the sides of the hall.

“No problem! I’m sure he’ll find me later!” She was certainly right there, the man thought to himself, steadying himself on his heeled shoes. Any man walking into the room would have his eyeline drawn to the taut t-shirt, red stain pulled into pinkness by the straining breasts, the hem dangling above the toned stomach. Only his wife could match the young student - his body vibrated with suppressed laughter as he saw that the tiny dress had once again let the tip of one brown ring peep over the spangled black neckline. Reaching up he adjusted the strap of his own, hoping to jog her into copying his action, but she missed his pointed look, gaze still focused unfocusedly towards the magnificent totem.

Not that he could blame her. When he’d first seen the photographs, even at his age his own loins had quivered at the sight of the dancing, praying forms engraved upon it, the rising, powerful figure at the centre of it all. After he’d finally managed to prise it away from all those other interested parties, and even having read each report describing it in great detail, he’d been struck dumb as the tall totem had finally been revealed in his workspace in all its glory. He’d been there for hours, taking measurements, samples, salivating at the opportunity to study such a unique object. Giggling, he remembered even taking out one plump breast from his tank top, comparing it to the engorged figures inscribed before him. Of course, there’d been no comparison - not even between those and his wife’s own fuller breasts, once she’d arrived to find him half-naked and immediately joined him.

Janice watched the two delicate hands draw back together, as the Professor and his wife turned to gaze in each other’s eyes - well, sort of, she thought, smiling as both sets of eyes dipped downwards. Two sets of bountiful chests rose and fell with each heavy breath; idly her own hand moved, wine glass forgotten, as it traced a circle around the thick stub poking from her stained t-shirt. Perhaps she’d better leave them to it and go find that friend of the professor -

“Might I have your attention, please?” Across the wide hall, heads spun towards the deep, booming voice that easily carried through the space. In the middle the tall shape of Basil rose head-and-shoulders above the other guests. Carefully sliding off the bar stool, Janice stood, following the beckoning finger of the Professor as he and his wife wandered shakily towards the command, ringed hands roaming the tight, dark material on the other’s rear. As the crowd parted slightly to allow the latecomers to pass, she couldn’t help but admire the bulging frame contained carefully within Basil’s well-tailored suit, each sleeve thread seeming to creak as he drew the wine glass and fork he’d used to draw attention back down to his sides.

“First, i’d like to congratulate the dear Professor here and his significant other, for all their hard work researching this most impressive totem. I can honestly say that it’s due to their work that I feel we can expect a true breakthrough in our understanding of the, ahem, ins-and-outs of Mutabwe civilisation.” Around the room flesh jiggled as the crowd took up a low round of applause. Then it was Janice’ turn to blush, as the man turned a wide arm to her. “And of course, their very talented assistant, who I’ve heard so much about.” His gaze sought hers out, staring straight into her eyes. And seen so much of. The young student gasped as the unspoken comment leapt out at her, her cheeks red-hot as the room continued the applause for her. Sure, the t-shirt and denim skirt hardly left anything to the imagination, and maybe the top was almost transparent now where she’d dribbled her wine… Her mind toyed with the idea of simply ripping it off. After all, it wasn’t like it would reveal much more than she was- but the man was still speaking.

“Before now, we had simply assumed that the Mutabwe were an expressly matriarchal society, with males not even remembered in epitaphs or given worthy burial. With the good professor’s contribution to the puzzle, among others, I believe we have arrived at firm evidence for my own theory; that totems such as these are in fact the funerary box of Mutabwe males.” Thirty-odd pairs of eyes swivelled to the totem, lingered, and then swung back. “It is my theory that in fact, far from being left behind by history, the males of the group were granted these special respects in the hopes that, much like many other cultures, their spirits would stay to watch over their descendants.” Pulling his bowtie knot free, he dropped the strip of material ceremoniously to the floor.

    There was a round of muted applause, until Basil held his large hand up and grinned. “Now now, save your plaudits for a moment. This is all unsubstantiated of course. But I do want to top off this night’s festivities with something genuine, and so I’d like to invite the Miss Sienkiewicz to come over here.” As if a spotlight had been turned on, all eyes once again darted over to the bar, the attention focusing to a pinpoint as Hannah’s brow furrowed in confusion. She anxiously turned to her husband. “I uh… what? What does he want me for..?”

“I’m not sure honey,” The Professor smirked, “But you’d better not keep him waiting!”

Suddenly cursed with self-consciousness, Hannah started to nervously pad barefoot towards Basil. She’d become acutely aware of just how little her tiny dress was leaving to the imagination, the taut fabric chafing against her sweaty thighs and her enormous breasts on the verge of bursting out of her top if her arm wasn’t there to keep them pinned down. She knew every man there was practically drooling at her in her drunken state and that just made ever even more uneasy. When she reached Basil and saw him salaciously grinning at her, she tried to shut him down with her best attempt at a scowl, only for that to falter as she took in just how large and imposing he was without her heels. She barely came up to eye-level with his chest. His broad shoulders towered over her.  He was enormous..

“I do have a unique treat for all of you tonight. You see, many of the Mutabwe’s ritual dances were thought lost to the ether, but we actually have managed to piece a few of them back together. In fact, in honour of this event, Hannah here graciously volunteered to perform one of them for us. Isn’t that right, Hannah?”
Hannah’s eyes widened with realization as she leaned in to her host, her voice an angry hiss under her breath. “What are you doing?! I don’t know how to dance!” Basil simply scoffed as he looked down at her - or at her cleavage - his voice a bassy rumble. “But of course you do. You were practically begging me to let you dance earlier. You insisted that it’d be criminal to have the totem here and not compliment it with a rare demonstration of Mutabwe dancing.”

    The archaeologist’s eyes half lidded, rapidly becoming flustered as her mind was fogged up with confusion. She didn’t - but she did remember saying something like that.. and it would be such a waste to have the totem here and all these people and miss out on such a rare opportunity. “I.. of course, yes.. I may have let something like that slip. But I didn’t think.. Basil, there’s all these people here.” She felt as if her voice was catching in her throat as his piercing gaze met hers - god, he was so huge - “Bashfulness doesn’t suit you my dear. Of course there’s people here, and they’re all waiting to see you dance. I know you won’t disappoint them.” That low rumbling voice again, feeling like it was filtering through her whole body, all those worries and anxieties being soothed out of her head in a warm heavy fog. 

    Hannah exhaled as she took a few awkward steps forward, drunkenly swaying as she tried to find her balance, the straps of her dress almost slipping off until both of her arms shot outwards as if she was balancing along an invisible tightrope. The sound of her giggle carried throughout the near-silent room as her slender neck turned towards the harpist, giving a perky nod to signal that she was ready to begin. The lights seemed to both dim and grow hotter at the same time, and she idly wondered just how it was possible for the girl to reach those strings without those whopping funbags getting in the way. But as the first few notes were plucked, all other thoughts were extinguished from her mind. She began to dance.

    Nearly everyone in the room watched in stunned awe as Hannah leapt into the air, deftly landing on the balls of her feet and effortlessly seguing into a mesmerizing, complex dance. Her legs kicked outwards as her large hips swiveled and shook, her head bopping to each gentle pluck of the harpists music. Her face looking as if it was entranced by the unseen rhythm as beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. Her poor dress which had fought so long to contain her ample body had now reached it’s breaking point as the archaeologist twisted and flexed. The sound of the damp cloth tearing could be heard throughout the gallery as the creamy flesh of her taut navel was exposed, her pierced bellybutton glinting in the fiery light. Another leap, and the remains of her skirt split apart at the thighs, looking all the world like a black loincloth as it rode upon the globes of her jiggling booty.

    She didn’t stop dancing. She couldn’t stop dancing. She was amazing. Her body moved so gracefully and rapidly that it almost hurt to look at, the audiences eyes struggling to catch up. All around the pulsing rhythm emanated outwards, not from the harp but from her.. More tearing noises as a few of the dresses joined hers in becoming midriffs, erections tenting in pants as she began to sing and chant wildly and loudly in a dead language. The frayed black threads where her clothes had ripped started to thicken and turn into sinew and animal hide. Her vision was a blur, but even in the darkly lit stone room she could see the leering, lustful faces on each of the men and it made her loins burn with warmth, her heart pounding inside her chest as she turned to face Basil. Her arms outstretched towards him, she fell to her knees, her eyes rolling up into her head as her lilting song reached it’s squealing orgasmic crescendo.
    He was the first to clap, joined by the rest of the audience in an uproarious approving cheer. She simply remained on the floor, panting heavily, her massive heaving chest bobbing up and down with her breasts, looking even larger in the strip of fur that stretched across her chest. Locks of sweaty hair dangled over her forehead and against her cheeks. She felt exhausted - but in a good way, her heartbeat only calming down as Basil’s thick finger and thumb brushed against her chin, his other arm grabbing her by the hand and pulling her back up to her shaky bare feet. All at once the crowd of debutantes seemed to descend upon her, hoisting her up into the air, giggles and shouts of admiration raining down upon her as errant hands fondled her trembling body.

    “Wow.” Janice gasped, looking at the similarly amazed face of the Professor, his thick lips gawking in admiration. “That was”

    “I-Indeed.” His own long hair draped his face, the sweat beading on it as he stared almost a match for his wife’s glazed skin. “She’s always loved to dance, but I had no idea her research had taken her this far.” Janice’s eyes tugged downwards to the twitching hips, echoing the regular beats from the musician across the hall, as the Professor’s head nodded, his body keeping time. “A most contagious display! I remember, many years ago, she danced much like that at our wedding…”

    The girl frowned. Many years? But the Professor was barely her senior, himself and his wife easily able to pass for just another couple of students when walking the halls. The skimpy clothes they wore, like the straps of fur they wore now, were a testament to their youth and vitalit-

    “P-professor?” Her head pulsed again with pain, her fingers clutching desperately at her skull through the long, curled hair. God, it felt like she was going to burst. A spike of pain jabbed into her with each heavy, drumming beat of the song, the focus she tried to will back into her confused mind ebbing at each new hot dagger into her mind. “I-I don’t feel so hot…” But she did, her body responded. Even as she rubbed her temples, her body responded, the atmosphere pregnant with some strange potency that kept her heart racing on a level beyond the pain. Beside Janice, the Professor looked on curiously, a worried expression in her sparkling eyes.

    “Are you alright? Perhaps we’d better get you someplace out of the way.” His lean arm came up to hold Janice around the waist, drawing the girl into him, the two momentarily unsteady as their top-heavy bodies stumbled. “After all, i’d be a poor teacher if I let my favourite student go unhelped.” Slow movement towards one of the side doors sent ripples through the girl’s bodies, hips rubbing against one another as each girl issued tiny gasps. “My-my most favourite student. The most… promising.” Janice felt the coiled hand around her waist slowly rise, fingertips touching the underside of one massive breast, touching the sliver of skin revealed by her too-small top. With each deep breath the tiny gap seemed to widen, the fur moving away from her, failing even more to cover the flesh that stretched out seemingly infinitely before her. “The… the most worthy… of showing off.”

    “Professor-” No, that wasn’t what she called him, was it? “P- I think… I think something is happening…” She wobbled out of his grasp, looking the brunette in the eye. “I-I think…” His pale hand came up to pull a stray blonde hair out of her face. “Yes? What’s wrong?” The cool stare was hard to look at, the deep blue eyes drawing her in, the pulsing of her headache almost hypnotic as she looked back at him, heart-shaped face cute in anxiety. “I don’t..” She almost moaned as he leaned in, ripe breasts pressing against ripe breasts, each straining top threatening to tear itself apart. “Please, we need to..” What did we need to do? Stop… something? “We need to… to leave…”

    The face that watched hers turned from concern to pity. “Of course, if you’re that unwell. Let’s just go collect that wife of mine, and then we’ll be gone.” Turning unwillingly back from the small door leading to the back corridor, Janice’s tentative footsteps grew quicker with confidence as she marched the still-unsteady Professor back to the centre of the room, pushing past the circle of women that still cooed at the display that had been -

    “Oh, fuck! Oh god yes, give it to me Basil! More! Mmmoorre!!”

    Flesh, warm and writhing, greeted them. Hannah’s body danced, light reflecting from her sweat-sheened body, as beneath her Basil pumped his enormous member into her spasming cunt. The Professor’s large eyes twitched at the sight, pupils shrinking in shock as his heart sank, watching his beloved slip and slide all over Sir Kinnock’s cock. And what a cock. A massive pillar of meat so thick and juicy that it made Janice’s mouth water just looking at it, each vein and muscle throbbing with such potency, stuffing poor Hannah so fully that with each withdrawing thrust the lips of her pussy puckered outwards as if to lovingly slurp at the apple sized tip, to guide it back in.

    “Deeper! Oh please deeper, Master! I need you in me so so badly!”

    Janice’s eyes shone as she saw him smile and oblige, the bouncing woman’s moans becoming shrieks of pleasure as the thick shaft between her legs bulged anew, each thrust withdrawing an ever-more vast cock from between her legs, each plunge back into the desperate, needy sex sending new rippling shockwaves across her feminine form, her juddering bubblebutt quaking and jiggling as it seemed to inflate into ever larger pillows of sweaty flesh. Keening sounds issued from the lustful woman as the stiffness within her slid out, replaced by a fulfilled whine as she sank, filling her so-empty body again and again.

    “H-honey..?” The quivering Professor squeaked. As if now only becoming aware of their new observers, Basil gave a masterful thrust and slammed his fully expanded length into Hannah’s trembling canal and held it there, the girl letting out a carnal scream of pleasure before twisting her neck around to look at her former husband, eyes fluttering innocently as a grin overtook her pixie features. Even from behind, the tips of her enormous breasts jutted out like pink torpedoes, smacking against Basil’s tanned, rugged chest, vast slabs of thick muscle bearing the brunt of the bouncing, gravid tits.

    “W-what...what is t-the meaning of this..?” The Professor asked, his voice barely a whisper. Hannah simply giggled in response as she raked her long nails across Basil’s pecs, biting her lip as the mountain of a man grunted and began to speak.

    “Mmm, I would’ve expected you two to have cottoned on by now.” His large hand gave a hard smack to Hannah’s hips, causing the bimbo to squeal and clench around his stiff fuckstick. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you the truth. You see, there was always a myth attached to the Kerezala totem amongst the tribes that had kept it in their possession. A story passed along about the curse that was weaved into every fibre of it’s surface, that whoever owned it would become.. corrupted. Into a monster. A brute that was more of a beast than a man.” The booming sound of his laughter echoed throughout the gallery, the crowd of expectant, voluptuous women around him simpering at the sound.. “But I consider it more of a blessing, wouldn’t you agree, Hannah?”

    “Ohh yes master~❤! It’s like, I never would’ve realised how much I loved you without that beautiful totem to show me!”

    “Oh.. oh god no..” Janice gasped, her mind only now grasping the inscription at the bottom of the totem. “The...the strong growing stronger..”

    “..and the weak quenching their hunger..” The Professor said, finishing her sentence as tears began to run down his blushing cheeks.

    “It’s the law of nature, of course. The strongest take what they want, and the weak, the submissive, the subservient-” He chuckled as the women around him stifled hushed gasps at each loaded word. “Well, they’re much happier on their knees pleasing their superiors in any way they can.”

“It’s so true~❤!” Hannah giggled as she wrapped her arms possessively around Basil’s thick neck.

    “’re sick..!” Janice cried out, unsure of what she was saying, the mere sight of Basil making it feel like her ovaries were going to fizzle and pop like fireworks. “Professor, we need to.. to get out of here..”

    But when she reached out to grab the Professor’s hand, she saw him already swaying towards Basil, his slow shuffling gait making him look like he was sleepwalking. “ truue…” a gasp escaped his beestung lips, teary eyes half lidded as his mournful expression morphed into a dreamy smile. “We’re just...we’re just your whores…”
“Oh! Oh! It’s happening!” Hannah squealed as Kieran drew ever closer, his long hair growing fuller and more voluminous with each step, wide hips flaring out of his loincloth. “Like, push your titties out Kira! Push ‘em out for Master!”

Basil’s grin grew even larger as Kira’s bust rapidly increased, the stretched fur bra quickly reaching its breaking point and snapping in two. Without thinking, she arched her back and rocked up on her tip toes, thrusting her melon sized titties forward. The sweaty globes wobbled and shook wildly, until her dainty hands snaked up to knead and rub at the creamy white flesh, grabbing huge handfuls at a time, taking a moment to sensuously rub her wet palms against the cork sized nipples. “Ohhh Master..” She cooed happily as Basil began resuming his thrusts into Hannah. Warmth trickled down her abdomen and precipitated at her loins, wetness gushing down and coating her thighs. Her genitals blossoming into a tight perfect cunt for Master to squirt his thick loads deep inside, to tremble and quake around his maleness, to bear his future children.
Hana had reverted to wordless squeals and moans as Basil’s thrusts increased with intensity, but Kira paid her no attention. Instead, she shimmied her titanic hips seductively to the beat of the drums, loin cloth dropping to the ground to allow her master to drink in her body. “Oh please..  Master.. I’m so unworthy of your perfection~!❤” her sweet voice was barely more than a breathy whisper as she took a few more steps to Basil’s side, those thick legs kneeling down in awe.. “Once you’re done with her.. can it be my turn?” Her watery wide eyes looked up hopefully.

Janice’s mind raced as she turned to flee, ignoring every fibre of her body begging her to stay and prostrate herself before Basil. She knew that if she didn’t leave now she’d simply end up giving in to that uber hot stud and begging to be covered in his yummy cream and - No!

She spun, her bare feet cold on the stone floors, her head twisting wildly from side to side as in desperation she searched for the door they’d passed up, her eyes catching sight only of the half-naked feminine bodies that cooed at her touch, some already freeing mountainous breasts from the terrible confinement that kept him from seeing them, from touching them, from-

No! On she ran, her mind swimming, the room seeming larger, stone walls more distant even as she took each step. By one wall the musician stood, body vibrating as her hands slapped down onto the vast drums, full, deep curves shifting at each beat, her entire form keeping time. Janice hurried on, her footsteps matching the frantic throbbing within her chest, between her legs, the drumbeat echoing through her entire body. There!

Behind the bar the staff door would be! She turned past the long slab of stone, her mind barely registering the unbelievably hypersexualised body of the bartender, her back against the stone as her fingers moved hungrily over her new form, quickly tearing away to stare up at the blank-
“No!” Behind the thick tapestry, daubed with black and red figures that aped the carvings of the totem, the wall was just more rough stone. Her fingers scrabbled desperately against it, nails gaining no purchase on a door or crack or split or anything to show the exit that had once been there. Fists thwacked the wall in fear. “Please!” Beyond the room she’d be safe, she’d be away from that monster, away from being fucked into submission, away from that huge, tempting cock that would fill her up so fully… The hand on her legs almost seemed a part of the daydream, only as Janice looked down to see the bartender crawling towards her, eyes burning with lust, breasts hanging pendulously down below her slowly moving form did she realise it had been real. Yes, she should just sink to the floor, her mouth on that dripping snatch, teasing, licking, preparing the other girl for their master’s-

“Ooh, hi there!” Janice almost leapt up with shock, her feverish eyes darted up at the newcomer, the black-haired beauty seeming almost normal, if not for the hand that pinched and poked at the large golden ring piercing the nipple that had fallen free from her furred top. “You’re Janice, right? I’m Charles Johansson, I’m like an associate professor and stuff!” She giggled brainlessly. “Mr. Sienkiewicz wanted me to like, meet you and um.. like totally hit on you and stuff.. and then maybe we could fuck?” 

“I..” What had she been about to do? She shoved the mewling bartender away from her sex. “There’s… there’s something wrong. Charles? Y.. you used to be a man, right?” On the other side of the bar, the statuesque beauty shook her head vehemently, long dark hair sent shivering in waves about her. “Used to? I AM a man, silly! Can’t you tell??” As if to disprove herself she thrust her bust forward seductively and twisted her shoulders to ensure her cleavage jiggled wildly.

“Ugh..” Janice moaned as she clutched her head, trying to gather her frazzled thoughts. “Okay, Charles, listen to me. Can you remember a few hours ago? Do you remember wearing different clothes? Or looking different? Do you remember always having those giant tits?”

    “Well of course I do!” The brunette at first snorted as she looked down at her breasts, but then her expression fell, her gaze growing distant and vacant as if she was lost deep in thought. “Well, I mean.. I think I do. I’m pretty sure. Uh.. Umm.. No.. I… Hmm.” Her brow furrowed in confusion, gleams of recognition filtering through her eyes. “But.. It must have.. It couldn’t just.. I mean, I couldn’t just...” Panic set in as all at once the illusion shattered, “Oh..oh my gawd.. What happened to me??”
    “Look, it’s not your fault. It’s the totem, it’s.. it’s changing everyone and making them fall under Basil’s spell.” Janice gestured around her and for the first time Charles actually realised she was surrounded by insanely buxom and underdressed women, all of them totally oblivious to their changes as they waltzed through a oversexualized parody of mingling in their primitive clothes. Pecks on the cheek were turning into make out sessions. Make out sessions were evolving into cunnilingus. The only ones who seemed to be aware of what was going on were the naked girls busy...servicing that...huge, fuckable hunk over -

    “NO! Do not look at him!” Janice shrieked as she wrapped both hands around Charles’ blushing cheeks and twisted her head back. Charles’ swollen lower lip started to quiver and tremble, her eyes welling up as she began whimpering. “W-what are we going to do??”

    “I don’t know.. I tried to find a way out, but somehow Basil has used the totem to seal all the exits..” Janice grabbed the sniffling girls shoulders and looked determinedly into her deep blue eyes, “Listen, Charles. I need you to focus. The totem is what’s causing this right? I think the only chance we have to escape being Basil’s big breasted fucktoys is to stop it before it finishes doing whatever it’s doing.”

    “You want us to destroy the totem? How?”

    The vacant eyes staring back at Janice seemed to reflect her own lack of ideas back at her. Surely it wouldn’t be long now before she too looked out on the world with wide eyes, mind innocent of any thoughts besides the majesty of the man across the room.

    No. The totem. Dragging the other girl with her, she strode towards the tall artefact. At some point in the evening the glass display case had gone, replaced by a shallow, roughly-worked stone plinth, moss tumbling from it onto the earthy floor. Several women were already kneeling around it, faces upturned to the carved rock that rose up above them. As Janice and her unwilling helper moved past, she saw their eyes flash from one place to another, her own gaze as she turned to look at the totem wavering to follow along the ripe, fertile flesh depicted in relief. She shook her head desperately, trying to clear the cobwebs.

    “We… we need...” Beside her Charles was muttering, eyes already dancing along the totem’s signs alongside the other girls. With an effort Janice heaved her arm, keeping the girl on her feet. “...weapon… something to… to…” With a last effort she stared mutely at Janice, before sinking slowly to the floor, eyes glazing over as she joined the others in worship.

    Janice quickly stepped around the plinth, careful to keep her glances away from the totem. Even then the luscious curves of the women surrounding her drew her eye, her hand dropping to her needy snatch, quickly pulling away, only to slowly return, a pattern that continued as she quickly searched the area. There! Beside a crate, in one of the corners, a crowbar! She moaned, partly in renewed hope and partly as she heard the ringing tones of another satisfied girl sound out from the gathering over by Basil. Reaching the crate, she swiftly grabbed the crowbar, pausing only a moment when she saw the girl bent over and gripping the edge, round ass wiggling in the air as she closed her eyes in need. Yes, of course, she should just slide in next to her, get rid of the rags that still almost covered her ridiculously curvaceous body, stick her ass up in the air, and wait for him to make his rounds over to the two of them. Maybe she’d be lucky, and he’d finish her off first…

    No! Each step now brought a whimper to her lips, the walk back to the totem almost painful, each footfall sending shockwaves through her body, enormous breasts jiggling, sending shocks that seemed to spark and fizzle in her very core. All around her, women groaned as they waited, voices ringing out as if in sync with the woman being so expertly serviced by the man. She could lie down, right then and there. Grab another girl, spread her legs apart, and make her ready just as she would for her. He would see. He would recognise how much she wanted to serve him, how ready she was, how prepared to take that huge, thick-

    No! Dimly she realised she’d made it to the totem, the pillar rising above her. On the sides the figures almost seemed to move, to dance, a copy of the professor’s wife’s performances, grace and beauty combined with lust and need to draw the eye of their master, to draw his cock into them, to show their true worthiness-

    The first impact hardly made a noise over the din in the room, voices raised in unison, the muttering of the girls knelt around the totem, deep drumbeats sounding out from all sides of the cave. The second she felt more in her arm than sounded in her ears, vibrations reflected down through her whole body the only sign she’d made contact. The third - Yes! The third had made the crack, the long, thin line running around one corner. Desperately she fitted one end of the crowbar to the whole, but it was so thick, so huge, so hard.... her fingers ran playfully down its length as she cried. It was too big to fit. She’d… she could… how could….

    “You’ll have to use your fingers.” The deep voice ringing out from behind her brought sense to her confused mind. Of course. Even as some part of her mind screamed out at her that the pleasured moans from around the room had stopped, that there was only one person present whose voice it could be, her hands reached up towards the totem. Yes, she just had to creep her fingers inside the crack. She could do it. She inched closer, barely feeling the hands that delicately touched her ass as she leant forwards. It was so near. Her fingers shook before her eyes. Inches, now. The air around her was ripe with some heady musk. So close.. barely a hair’s distance away from it…

For a moment the stone was cool under her fingertips, flakes of obsidian staining her long, impractical nails. She squirmed as she started to pry the crack open, gasping with awe as the frozen rock started to heat up and throb with her efforts. Before her the entire totem looked as if it was bending and quivering, which meant whatever she was doing must be working! Her hands caressed the enormous circumference of the pole, the ivory reliefs beginning to fade away to be replaced with rhythmically pulsing lines, veins criss-crossing it’s surface and making her body quake with need. She smiled softly and pushed her enormous titties against the totems skin, arms and legs clinging to it’s meaty turgid thickness. Yes, she was so close! It was all going to be over soon!

She shrieked with lust as the totem started to quake and erupt, it’s power cascading out over the room in waves of invisible energy. And all of that energy was flooding into her. Her body shook and spasmed with delight, her mind being opened up by the totem as she completed the pulsing magical circuit. She finally understood what she’d been missing the entire time. Why had she been fighting it!? This entire time her whole body and soul had been desperately begging her to give in.. To be owned. To be used.. And now it was going to happen! The totem hadn’t been changing them, it was purifying them. Removing all those laughable childish notions of clothing and morality and equality, and returning them to the truth of the world. To help the strong grow stronger. Her heart swelled with pride, her chest escaping the tight confines of her top. All of those other icky confusing thoughts just seemed to evaporate. There was no shame in being owned by Master! She squealed as her mind raced with all of the possible ways she could pleasure him, serve him, worship him! Her thick black hair spun out into long lustrous curls that tickled her bloating, heart shaped rump. She knew now that every part of her would belong to him for all eternity, and she shivered and squealed, her eyes rolling up into her head as she came long and hard at the thought.

    When Jani opened her eyes once more, she was greeted with the most wonderful sight she could imagine. Tall and powerful, his chiseled muscles looming over her, his pefect cock stiff and drooling it’s pre all over her hyperfeminine body.  All around her girls mewled with envy and jealousy, the exposure to the totem had turned Jani into a creature of pure sex, Kira and Hana might have been walking wet dreams, but in comparison to Jani they may as well have been children. She was so tall that she almost came up to eye level with Basil, her form oozing with jiggling sweaty curves. Her breasts were the size of beachballs now, but looked entirely appropriate on her enlarged frame, sagging into pale white tear drops on her chest. Her plump bubblebutt was a jutting shelf of slippery flesh that bounced out from her cartoonish hips. Beads of moisture rolled down her naked form, and gave the appearance that she was faintly glittering in the firelit temple. Every fibre of her body had been reshaped and remade, stretched and squeezed and refined into fertility personified. She had become a goddess, so that she could properly service her God.

Her hands delicately wrapped themselves around the massive circumference of his shaft, cautiously as if she was afraid that they’d get burnt. And she shifted so she could properly kneel, her mouth being drawn to the quivering trembling piss slit like water to a drain. It looked so cute, so perfect. Her plush, beestung lips wrapped themselves around his bulbous tip, french kissing it until she was rewarded with all his yummy cream. So very much of it that it spilled from her bulging cheeks, long thick strands escaping the tight seal of her lips and coating her jiggling boobs, to show that she REALLY enjoyed it.

    She loved Him so much.


Picking herself up from the floor, Samantha dusted herself off. What the hell was going on? The streets were filled with men and women standing up from the ground where they’d fallen after the ringing boom. The cloud of grey dust drifted to the ground, revealing the deep hole in the wall of the thick museum walls to her right. Silhouetted in the veil, dark shapes slowly emerged, strange figures that eventually resolved into weird, costume-wearing women. Sam inched closer, mouth gaping open. No, if they were costumes, they were unlike anything she’d ever seen… distended nipples stuck out lewdly from swollen breasts, thick thighs working as the dazed girls wandered gradually out into the street. How could this even be... The air began to fill with shouts of surprise, of disgust, before quieting almost instantly as the other figure appeared.

As he strode out, the group of vacant-eyed women turned as one to stare at him. At his side, the girl who smiled lazily, thighs sticky as they rubbed together, had to have been even larger than the rest of the women, huge breasts resting on the vast orb of a stomach that bulged out before her. Even as the girl laughed a simpering laugh, droplets of liquid formed at her nipples, milk leaking out to run in pale trails along the thick curve of her ripe belly.. Her adoring gaze seemed to take in the man’s whole form, shifting from his face down to… oh….

Sammi felt the giggle escape her lips as her torn clothes fell in tatters around her feet. As she slowly fell to her knees, she licked her lips, the man striding confidently towards her to receive her worship. For the first time in her life, everything suddenly made perfect sense.

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