9: "If you ain't got no Sauce, then you're lost. But you can also get lost in the Sauce."
Having a dream.
Dreaming.
Dreams.
Unconciousness.
Rapid Eye Movement unconciousness.
Or the complete and absolute opposite of 'woke'.
(Whatchu say? Pshh... Fuck a 'awake', muh-fucka, I SAID 'woke' .)
(Sh'up.)
ANYWAY... (ahem...)
Dreams.
Dreaming.
Dreams of weird, flittering, images - complete with sight, sound and smell - flitter and flutter. Like a film who's scenes have been shuffled on ramdom. But the dreamer knows each scene intimately - exactly who they are of, when they were, and where. And why. And even, what happened before the scene, and what would...happen after.
(You misspelled 'random' as ramdom.)
(_ No _I didn't! I...was... referencing... a form of...bestiality! YES. Ram Dom. Goat cuckoldry. Getting cuckolded by a goat. Stoppit.)
These insane dreams are of a young blonde man, lips tightly clenched with determination and fear, false courage and true trepidation, terror within and iron without.
The playlist of mental images show, in no particular order, a determined blonde fellow with straight yellow hair down to just below his shoulders, rosy plump cheeks, a rounded and shallow feminine jaw, and plump pink lips - all his genetic features telling all the world of his testosterone defeciencies...
Regardless, his small effeminate frame and thin svelte muscles sensually laid under estrogen-scented "comforter quilts" of fat layers and soft skin, pull and flex, moving his bones in a impatient speed. The young man named Ovi dreams of being awake and hustling forth with speed. In a hurry, gathering up his metal armaments. But is it speed from fear of lateness? Or speed meant to hide a inwardly clawing fear and shaking nerves?
Not even he knows.
But propbably fear. The lil' bitch.
The random shuffle of scenes at least makes it clear what he's doing: preparing himself to seek out monsters that threaten humanity.
Well... not ALL humanity. But, y'know, his village. At least. But if Ovi could aid all humanity, he would.
He'd try.
He tried.
_ Shewon. _
This dream dances across his mind, as if he is watching himself on video.
A sense of personal consciousness seems to grow louder and more invasive every hour. A methodic_*thump.....thump.... thu- thump-thump.....thump.....thump*seems to be more noticeable by the minute. Feeling the warm sun on his face, and the leather clasps of armor straps pressing against his body, and even...the shame of wearing a woman's dress, so as to fool the maiden-snatching monsters... all these feelings fade away. And are replaced by feeling like... like... Eugh...like he is floating in warm vaseline. A feeling li-like...like he's breathing through a hot meat straw. A...a throbbing... _living straw... made of gristle and cartilage.
That old feeling he's been used to for years: the feeling of being 120 pounds and svelte, it seems to slide away. As if...his...his...
Oh shit...shit, his everything is too heavy. All his shit is too heavy. His brain tries to move his hands so he can feel himself, but in this deepest of deep sleep, his hands don't respond. Won't respond. Only a slight clench of tightness in his right bicep makes him aware that one arm half answered.
His body's usual feeling is replaced by a feeling of being heavy now. The feeling of a massive, rotund body pulling at your skeleton. It doesn't hurt...matter of fact, it feels MORE comfortable than he has ever before. As if...moving is easier than it's ever been. No more creaky aches, no longer feeling that odd little 'snap' sound his tendon made in his right knee, his muscles seem to move in perfect ease, hot, warm, and not even a slight miniscule unnoticeable discomfort of strain. No strain. None. Even pressure makes the bulge in any muscle swell with a warm feeling of...ooh that feels good. Feels strong. Feels...flexible. Damn, this feel...s..... ... hold up....
His body feels warm.
Kinda hot, actually.
Damn...whew...a little t** oo** hot.
But the "too hot" feels...kind of...amazing?
Yeah... it feels great. Not at all uncomfortable.
Your inner groin feels almost smooth, like a doll. The only reason you know is you've focused on what the insides of your thighs feel of your groin, and what your groin senses of your inner thighs. Barely a rub as you barely squeeze your thighs together.
It feels 4 times as hot and sensitive, as if a guy walks out into cold and wet weather naked. Everything tightly and neatly drawn up.
Urnhh... ... ... _ hold dup _...
You feel a strange, uncomfortable pushing against your anus. It doesn't hurt. But...it's invasive. Pushing. Unn...unhhh..... Ermmn.... Barely much resistance as it accepts something hard and hot inside.
You gasp slowly for breath as you feel something hard and cylindrical...and made of either rubber...or flesh...drive it's way slowly up inside your bowels. It's warm. It's hot. It's hard. And...and....it just seems to slide inside so easily. As if your anus can stretch any amount with only so much as a feeling of...well... kind of....kind of like a firm massage in the anus ring. And like a comfortable - yet rather high pressure - massage of your insides.
Ovi feels himself arch his back and slightly spread his knees to help it get deeper access. Which it does. He doesn't...think too much about it. Like how one doesn't think too much about turning over to the other side of their body when their sleeping in the bed. But unlike that, he does have a quickly fluttering thought...WHY? Why? That's not just...so NATURAL for me?
But then, he stops thinking about it. He's sleeping. He's tired. And the...huge...thing....about 2 feet up his colon...or 3 feet? ...maybe? ...he's not sure, he's warm and cozy and tired... anyway, that THING starts to massage up inside his colon.
It feels so good.
Like a massage on the inside. It feels good. It feels good to allow it. Like he's kind of...on autopilot. Instinct.
Then it starts pushing inside faster. He feels a pressure building in his taint...just behind his pubic wall. Just behind the wall of bone that sits behind his cock's base. Like a spring being pressed down, and building itself up. He feels a lump in his throat, as if he's not sure if he's choking a little, or has to throw up, or just...(Paula Deen voice.)...juss feelin' that dyamn good, y'all.
Thump....thump....thump....
The pumping inside puts him to sleep.
*** ^^^ ***
He spasms awake just for a milisecond. He recognizes a orgasm. A good one. But very short. His insides feel warm, as if he's had a enema of hot jelly. He blacks out back to sleep.
____^__^__^_^_^_
The dreams start again. Visions of the past are interrupted by a slowly approaching consciousness. Realization of what was real memory, and what wasn't. Self identity. Self awareness. Names. Words. Faces.
The face of a girl who looks Ethiopian... almond-shaped eyes... smooth, flawless reddish-chocolate skin, thick pink lips, that odd pharaohnic nose... and long beautiful black braids fills the mind. Like the face of some Egyptian statue made flesh.
And then...a pang of emotion. Recognition.
Love.
Protectiveness.
Longing.
... humiliation ...
The damn bug... the bug... this damn world... the harpies... the wolf women... the ashuras calling themselves orcesses... the... the... the goblin traps... THE DAMN BUG.
Anger.
_ Phalia... _
The heart picks up faster. A tiny splat of adrenaline fills the body.
((Phalia...)), he thinks, ((Phalia! M __y...! My love... I must save you!_ ))_
Like the Greek Perseus saving the Ethiopian Andromeda, Ovi can't help but draw a comparison between he saving Phalia to them in that ancient story.
Except...
Perseus wasn't in a dress. And pigtails. And sodomized until he came all over the floor... and couldn't stop himself from smiling and drooling while getting gang banged by his own wasp-daughters... and knowing his beloved KNEW it. Cuckolded by a bug woman, and your own daughters, who were knocking you up.
Fuck, that's all kinds of fucked. And while you looked like a maiden.
Or got his cheeks busted by a wasp woman and her THOT-assed daughters.
_ Correction :THEIR thot-ass daughters. Just now, he realizes...the first one to fuck him...Rose, was it? She....oh sweet Jeebuz....she.....she had _his smile. Albeit one with sharp teeth and thicker lips, but still, the dimple in the cheeks, and the way one corner goes up a little higher than the other... did he kind of...father...or mother...or whatever...parent...did he parent those...wasp women?
Ovi's soft round face clenches in worry and concern, trying to mentally move his body. But he can't. He sleeps in a fetal position, with his arms wrapped around himself. He can feel his lower jaw and face against his arms. Wai-wai-wait a minute... his face has never felt THIS soft before...his jaw never THIS oval before. He feels like he's been sleeping for... for... Shit, he doesn't... doesn't know. Every so often, he wakes up, whether it's to something long and hard pushing up inside his colon. Or something long and hard pulling out of his loose and suctioning anus... pulling out at the same time that his insides feel as if they've been just freshly filled with a hot, copious deluge of "jelly."
He's still too buried in unconciousness. The green, striped eyes of a evil woman smiling a sharp-toothed smile replace the image of Phalia's soft, beautiful face...
Sleep. Warmth. Comfort. Submission. Darkness.
______________^^^^^^^^^^^
It upsets him, causing Ovi to bite his bottom lip.
What? His lip... It feels...softer than memory remembers. Plumper. But he is too consumed with hatred. Hate. Lyra...that gag-mouthed wasp whore.
He's so mad that he forgot he just woke up now just enough to know he's thinking this at the mom...en... Zzzzzzz...
Thump thump thump thump thump!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
BLUORP!
GAH!
Awake again.
Everything sounds like having your head under water. Everything feels like being curled up in a hot tub full of bubblingly-hot jello. Everything feels...hot. Warm. Heavy. ....not right. Well... 'not right' as in 'completely different than what I'm used to.'
Not_'how I know things should be.'_
But, yet, it still... feels... kind of.... Comfortable?
Where am I?
The face of a woman with yellow skin, slightly slanted almond-shaped eyelids with long yellow eyelashes that blink over eyeballs that are completely black and glistening as if made of black glass, a flat button-like nose, and very thick black lips, complemented by a yellow and black feminine afro that surrounds her head like a flower's mockery of a halo - this face fills his mind.
Remembering... She smiles sweetly. Her feminine black afro frames her small, and dainty girl frame....er, or bee....whatever... her bee-woman face. But who is she? Wha- ... oh yeah.
Ohhhh right....right..... Yeah, THAT happened.
Thump thump thump thump thump thump
Thumpthumpthumpthump!!!
A warm pulsing fills his taint. His nipples feel...sensitive.
Too sensitive.
He can feel one against one of his arms that are wrapped around himself. He doesn't remember his nipples...feeling....THAT long.
Damn, boy.
That muhfuckah's gotta be...like...6 inches.
Hold up! Hol' DUP! HOL -da hell- DUP!
Ovi begins to uncurl from his fetal position. He's not so black-out-tired anymore. He's...he's awake now. Everything's dark. Everything's hot. TIGHT. Like he's been crammed into a tiny locker. A tiny locker that's 90 degrees and filled with jello. And a giant snorkel made of hard rubber shoved down his throat.
His insides don't feel so full of jelly anymore. He begins to try to stretch out, feeling the back of his head push against something like a rubber ceiling. His thighs move easily. They feel strong. Insanely strong...compared to how they used to feel. He feels weight hanging from his gut.
As he spreads and uncurls his arms from around himself, he feels like he's wrapped in a cocoon of silken hair. He jerks his arms against it, and suddenly yelps in the snorkel from from feeling sharp pain and a hard tug against his very own scalp. He slowly moves again, feeling something like his arms moving down causing tugging and pulling of the hair of his scalp.
Wait. Wait a minnit... Has his hair become THISlong?!
How long has he been....? Wait.... What the hell's goin' ON?!
NO!!!!
Ovi feels his body thunder alive with energy.
He curls his arms so not to pull his own hair, but tries to stand up, and slam the back of his head against the rubbery ceiling.
It gives away, letting dry cool air kiss the back of his wet, slick scalp. He does it again, feeling a hot, throbbing mask of meat pop off his face. He inhales, feeling his lungs fill with something like hot jello and a mouth full of sugar. The need to breathe kicks his body into overdrive.
He uses a spike of new-found strength to burst his head through the rubber ceiling and into dry, cooler air. He gasps, feeling fresh, but humid and damp, air fill his lungs. His nipples feel insanely sensitive, and a warm liquid seems to be oozing out of them. He forces his feet down until they meet resistance against a unusually perfectly-flat surface. His toes instinctively clench down for grip, and he feels a sensation like as if his toe nails dig deep into the floor. As if they're hooked and LONG.
Still feeling as if his arms and shoulders are wrapped in a "cocoon" of his own hair, he gets his balance and begins to stand, feeling a heat and power in his thighs and buttocks that he's never felt before. With ease, the easiest it's ever been in his life, he stands up, forcing his upper body upwards into the dry air from the busted open ceiling. He feels relaxing stretching in his lower back as he straightens to stand up. He feels his balance shift, as if he's suddenly bottom-heavy. He feels a slight strain due to weight hanging from his chest.
He opens his mouth, and inhales harder and longer, feeling a new energy and life fill his lungs. He feels a wobble-wobble on his chest as he inhales deeper and faster. He feels long sheets of wet hair fall back to along his shoulders and back now, like a cape dripping to his ankles. Finally, he can unwrap his arms.
As he lowers them down to his side, they meet a resistance of thick, dense thighs. His thighs have NEVER been THIS wide!
The shock causes him to open his eyes, before snapping them shut again due to the guk coating his face. He goes to wipe his face, accidentally feeling something long, sharp, and hard knick his eyebrow. His fingernails are long and sharp.
"WhuH?!"
He carefully presses his hands against his face, wiping downwards to clear the gyuk from his face like a windshield wiper wiping rain water from a glass shield. Snapping his wrists, he feels goopy ropes of goo flick off into the distance as he carefully now opens his eyes.
As his vision adjusts slowly, all he can see is dim-yellow and caramel-brown everywhere in a blur.
He looks down to into the pool of amber fluid which he is now standing in up to his knees. As his vision slowly clears itself, he sees the familiar reflection of pale skin and human shape that is he himself.
But as he looks harder, vision clearing, pupils dilating and adapting to the room... the paleness of his skin and the rosy cheeks are all that...that SEEMS...to be familiar. His cheeks seem....a little TOO rosy. Massive and round breasts jut from his chest like basketballs in bags filled to a perfect level with firm gel. Bright reddish-pink nipples, thick as...thick as his penis is...proudly stand out from them like flagpoles.
His bottom half splays out from his thin waist widely like a hourglass's bottom half. But...then...his mid-section isn't small, either. It's THICK. Muscular, and smooth. His belly buttom seems....yep...it's gone.
Feeling panic rising in him at higher and higher crescendos, he reaches down to feel his groin. In the fluffy, furry bush of his groin...is.....nothing. Nothing sticking out. WHAT?!
WHAT?!
He panics, reaching for his balls.
Nothing.
Wait...there's...there........is.........
The ball bag seems to have flattened and shrunk, with a very sensitive and plump slit in it. Like a mouth. He gently pushes at it, careful of his dagger-like nails. And...he feels a hard little bump inside. But when he touches that little bump...it feels just like touching his cock's head.
Congratulations, Ovi. You got a va-jay-jay.
**********************************************************************
"Ohhhh Horrush!" cries Phalia, somewhere between a expletive, and somewhere between calling on a old god of her homeland. A homeland she left as a toddler. She knows nothing of it's great pyramids, or statues, nothing except what her mother and step-father told her. But that was back in those days long gone. Those days...when...
"OH HORRUSH!!!!"
... she was human...
"The sam hell's wrawng witchuu?" casually mutters the 7 foot tall female thing that looks like a adult Pippy Longstocking. With green skin. And blonde bangs. And HoRrIBULle teeth. And red eyes. And perfect Aryan features. And freckles. And... good lord... NO ass... and massive grasshopper legs... and Daisy Dukes with the thin-barrel shaped abdomen busted out the back. And the make-shift redneck halter top that says "G.A.G.G.A." on the front.
If Phalia wasn't...looking at what she was looking at, she'd be furious with that grasshopper whore. For running her down. For jumping on her. For selling her to a spit-and-wood skyscraper filled with termite women who look like they walked out of some twisted hentai. Like something hot and kind of fucked up. As if KingToll made them up.
8D
Phalia stares down at what used to be a 110 pound body with reddish-chocolate colored skin, a flat stomach, and skinny effeminate features. That's not there anymore. Instead, she sees that, while everything from a few inches below her breasts and up has stayed normal... everything below has become massive. Her stomach has ballooned into something looking 10-12 months pregnant. And throbbing. Her lower body has extended, easily making her from her once petite 5 feet tall, to... guesstimating... 12 feet long from her head down to her anus. As if she was made of taffy, and her waist was pulled and extended until her feet were more than 12 feet away. IF she could see them. Multiple pairs of breasts have begun to slowly grow along the bulging belly and midsection of what used to be her waist. Patches of light caramel and pale-pink have begun to form sort of "stripes" along her red-chocolate skin. She can feel masses moving down her insides...a strange feeling as if comfortably pushing out small egg-shaped vibrators from the deepest part of her vagina until pushing it completely out.
It feels good. Feels... really good. She can feel a hot, slippery pool of her own fluids dripping and drizzling around her feet. Or what used to be her feet. The dainty chocolate little feet with pale bottoms, and black flowers tattooed along the top have now... become... pink-pale "hands" with jutting black claws from each toe. IF she could see, she would be enraged at how the Egyptic flower tattoos have stretched out into black "smears", abominations of what they used to be, accentuating the abominations of what her feet once were, all complimenting the abomination of what she once was.
A spasm rocks her body, as she suddenly realizes that she is in a laying-down-on-her-back position. Her feet and groin in a literal pool of her own aroused leakage. She throws her head back, sending a wave of what may look like straight black hair from a distance, but in reality is very thin Aegyptic braids. Her almost-black brown eyes bulge as her chocolate cheeks burn orange with intense sexual lust. Lust against her logical will. Her thick pink lips open in steaming gasps of... of silent screams. Silent screams of one of the hardest orgasms to rock her in her entire life.
She feels something like a oval egg push out of her, and k-plop into the hot, nectar-pool that seems to be a foot-soak/mini-pool at the end of her makeshift "bed". Or some foul... termitic throne. It suddenly dawns on her that the warm and steamy "water" that her legs up to her knees is soaking in, as well as her vagina, is filled with her own leaking sexual arousal. She gasps again, clenching shut her almond-shaped semi-slanted eyes and gritting her teeth as she has a mini-gasm while feeling another "egg" ease it's way down her tubes.
She hates how good this all feels. It feels REAL good.
Fuck.
"Aintchu hear me?" mumbles the deep American-south accent once again.
Phalia's black eyelashes, which almost make her eyes look lined with make-up when closed, open slowly in a rage. She wants to be angry. She wants to be furious. She wants to be horrified. But the unforgiving truth is... (Paula Deen voice)... she feeyulls too damn good, y'all!
"Fuck...you...." she breathes between pants.
The grasshopper woman cocks to one side, flitting her head to cause her reddish-blonde bangs to flit over her bright red eyes - with sky-blue pupils. Her freckled cheeks raise in a sneer as she stops chewing her salad and sticks her thin black lips out in a pout.
"Now hold on nah. Dat ain't no way tuh talk tuh folks."
"You're not "folks". You're some...some kind of animal!"
The grasshopper smiles mannerlessly. (Sam Jackson voice: Yes I made the word up! And I hope the dictionary burns in hell!!! - end of Sam Jackson voice.)
The grasshopper's smile not only reveals her mouth full of salad shamelessly, but also her teeth as something between a hillbilly human smile, but with yellow shards that look like the bottom half of the letter D, instead of the [] shape that human teeth have.
"Well taaaarnations! You a mean lil' black cuss! We all gotta make sacrifices. Freedom ain't free, ya know."
"... WHAT???"
"You people don't know nuffin' about luvvin' yer country, or doin' nuthun', or buildin' nuff-"
"YOU JUMPED ME, BEAT ME UP, THEN SOLD ME FOR A SALAD!"
"You wouldn't have nunna this if it wudn't fer me."
"MAYBE if you just TALKED to me first-"
"Look, kay, the only thang that makes folk better than folk is how good dey is at killin', shootin', beatin' up, and takin' shit over thru violence. So... since I'm better at fightin' den you, dat means I'm superior ta ya."
"I had a home! I had a loving suitor! He'll be here to save me!"
"Look... you had nuffin'. I know y'all think y'all see ya selves on da peer-midz 'n' all, buh...*snort* grasshoppers built dem peer-mids. Not y'all."
"..."
"See, when ya look at dat d'ere Sfinx, whatchu see when ya see da face? Huh? A GRASSHOPPER."
"Horrush-damn, you're stupid."
"He ain't nuffin' either. Just a bird headed nig-"
"Why all this jaw jabbin'?!" screams a high-pitched Anime-style waifu voice. In walks what looks like a human girl with thick lips, a flat face and high cheek bones, and literally stark white curls that run down to her middle back. Except her skin is literally white. One might think she's Asian...or African... one of 'em... if her solid white bangs weren't completely covering her eyes and nose bridge. Her thick red lips frown, hiding her piranha-like teeth. One cheek pokes out as she chews, sending wet bits of sawdust flying with every word. She is dainty, with perky B cup breasts, clear whitish-blue pubic hair over her mound, and black claws in place of every toenail and fingernail. She snaps her head from the grasshopper to Phalia, as if she could even see them and make eye-contact through the thick curtain of white bangs over her face.
"You know how dem people iz, all they do iz blame the grasshopper fer all d'er prob-"
"People?! You mean humans? I dunno...humans are 'kay. I guess. *crunch munch munch *...oiff dunff moh. But-ooooh!"
The termite girl sauntered over to Phalias massive belly, and gently rubbed one of her pale hands with yellow fingertips over one of the newly-forming breasts. There must have been 14 of them. When her hand gently squeezed the budding breast, it made Phalia's already waterfall-of-a-pussy start to pulsate with erotic excitement. She shut her eyes and turned away, trying to hide her blushing face and arousal.
"Feels good, dunt it?" smiled the termite.
"Look who's awake..." mutters a familiar voice into his liquid-clogged ears. He carefully unfurls his arms, careful not to jerk at this gown of hair so it doesn't pull and hurt. Long sharp fingernails now adorn his fingertips. As he pulls his upper body free, all the hot fluid on him cools. Except for the constantly leaking rivets oozing from his sensitive nipples. His penis and ball sack feel tiny and drawn up. The sensitive touch only makes it swell and throb, but not grow as a proper penis should.
"Careful, hun."
Ovi sneers, pulling back his now plump pink lips in anger. He crawls free from a hole in the rubbery floor, feeling just how huge his ass and thighs are now. His stomach is round and firm, not flat and concave anymore. It feels heavy and full. It throbs with his heart, as do his massive buttocks.
The man now looks more like a flat chested woman with a massive ass and thighs, pointed leaking nipples, and thick sheets of golden hair running longer than he is tall. He digs his sharp clear fingernails into the rubbery floor, pulling free, and stretching as if he awoke from a long sleep. Tendons pop loudly with cracking sounds. A warm squirt of gooey fluid shoots from his nipples, and his thighs shudder as his limp tiny acorn of a penis dribbles clear, infertile fluid. Ovi shakes his head hard, blinking the goo out of his eyes to see, and shaking his hands dry. His skin fills with goosebumps as his hands slide down to explore every inch of his body. His face gasps in horror and confusion.
"What....what happen to me...." he croaks in a hoarse voice.
"You've been reborn, hun." says the queen bee's voice.
"Into...what?" he tries to take a step on the hot, throbbing, rubbery ground. When his weight makes him slightly sink on what feels like a rubber garbage bin filled with fluid, he feels a hard, human skull press into his foot. His eyes bulge open before gasping in shock and stepping backwards. His eyes clear as he bends over to look down into the yellowish-brown honeycomb floor. But what he can barely make out inside the honeycomb he just stepped on isn't a human skull. Why...it's an entire person, curled up like a fetus. A flat chested woman with wide shoulders and...no....that's a guy! Like him! Changing....
"Sacrificed daughter's mercy...." he mutters, before stepping backwards, only to step on another person's head locked in a honeycomb. Another. His eyes clear as he stands up and turns in a circle, looking around everywhere. Almost every comb shows a fellow curled up in a fetal position, slowly growing bigger butts and thighs, and longer hair.
"WHAT IS THIS?!" he turns to see the queen bee on a throne of naked, wriggling girls. Like African girls, with neon yellow skin, stripes, wings, and jet black eyes, all....either kissing, cumming, thrusting, or...or who knows what. And atop this ball of all-girl orgy sits the biggest of these...bee women. The one he remembers all too well. The queen. Her black lips smile on her neon yellow face below her perfect high cheekbones and above the small chin.
"Why...it's your legacy..."
"My what?" he frowns, looking around at what may be 10, 20, 30, 60, or more people curled up in honeycombs.
"Every one of them were once men of adventure, like you... but here, in my hive, they are finally given new purpose. A better purpose."
"This...this is all because of me?"
The queen ran her yellow fingers through the long, thin black braids running from her perfect head and down her small, velvety jet-black shoulders. A afro-puff ponytail jutted from the back of her head, as long twirling curls ran down the side of her neon yellow face, her black neck and shoulders, to her yellow-striped breasts. Her huge black lips frowned on her beautiful yellow face.
"In a sense..."
Ovi shook his head, getting the long blonde bangs out of his face, as he readjusted his stance. His body had changed. Drastically. When he looked down, his blonde hair had grown so long and thick that it looked like spools of yellow silk were all around his feet. He felt the hot, sweet milk ooze in watery rivers from puffy nipples and down his round, full belly. He grabbed it, and gasped when he felt something inside kick. His mouth gasped open in horror...lost on what to say.
"...this, all of this, began with you. Because of you. Lyra and her ilk were content being in small numbers and haunting the forest for food. But when she discovered what your human body could do for her species...she started her crusade on humanity."
At that, Ovi remembered the fate of his beloved, and the entire village. Not even his village, just a village of kind people who rescued him from Lyra's intentions.
"Those humans who don't make good birth machines, or can't anymore? They sell off as food."
Ovi's lips quivered.
"Not cruelly, though. They primarily sell them to the fish women, who swallow them whole and let them peacefully digest inside their bellies."