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The Lovely Knight Rises - Chapters 4 & 5
🕑 Added 2019-09-14 06:51:33 +0000 UTC
Chapter 4
Matt awoke disoriented, head fuzzy with the excitement of half-remembered events. Light pressed on his eyes. He kept them shut, not yet ready to wake up. The last couple days had been exhausting and aside from needing to check in with the Academy of Magic he was free from responsibility. A good day for resting, especially since whatever bed he had been ensconced in was the most plush, warm, and comfortable of his life. He nuzzled into the sheets and marveled at the warmth radiating from pliant material beneath him. Almost too warm. He was sweating a little, probably that was what had woken him up. And the bed was moving slowly up and down which didn’t seem like something a bed ought to do.
Matt’s eyes snapped open. Bed’s don’t move! For a moment the light blinded him and all he could see was a halo of light. When his vision cleared his eyes roamed over pale hillocks of skin, that he had assumed were pillows, up to Jasmine’s smiling face. Not just skin, Jasmine’s breasts. Enormous mounds each nearly as large has his entire body. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up, sleepyhead.” Matt jerked his hands back from her chest like her mammaries were a hot stove and began to babble an apology.
“Really, Matt,” Jasmine pursed her lips. “You think you ended up between my tits on accident?”
“But…” Matt trailed off. What could he say? He vaguely recalled Jasmine’s proclamation in the town square, that he was to be her personal mage and that she was ‘spoken for’. At the time his exhaustion was so great he had assumed he was dreaming, but now... Only one way to know for sure. “Did you request that I be your personal mage?”
Jasmine responded and her smile widened, revealing sparkling white teeth that were large enough to cut him in half. He knew she didn’t mean her smile to be threatening, but she was just so huge. Her teeth were as large as bricks and many times sharper and he could not shake the feeling that he was prey caught in a predator’s gaze. Jasmine’s expression softened, perhaps sensing his discomfort. “You have nothing to be afraid of,” she said softly. Her hand reached between her breasts and lifted him to his feet. She was not so big that a single hand covered his body, but it wasn’t far off. She had grown even larger than when they had fought the Agreans. How tall was she now? Thirty five feet? Forty? Enormous, that much was certain.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The wish… I’ll find some way to fix it.”
“Fix it?” Jasmine’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
“You can’t live a normal life anymore.” Matt gestured to the huge room they were in, not a bedroom but an audience chamber that had been converted into a makeshift sleeping area. “This is probably one of the biggest rooms in the city and you’re almost too big for it.” Though he spoke of the room he could not tear his eyes away from her. She was so incredible, and not just her immense size but the youth and beauty that had smoothed the lines on her face, made her skin flawless and her lips a plush and inviting pink that matched her nipples. His eyes drifted down to her breasts and he saw the broad nubs of flesh jutting from their tips. Realizing he was staring he coughed and looked away abruptly. A glance up at Jasmine’s mischievously smiling face told him that she was not fooled.
She stared down at him for a long, uncomfortable moment before saying, “I love the new me, and a normal life sounds awful. Besides, I wouldn’t worry about the bare necessities. I have not felt hungry since the change, I’ve barely slept and I feel completely rested, and as for a room big enough to hold me,” Jasmine reached out with her free hand and rested her fingertips against one of the ornate chairs decorating the chamber. For a moment Matt was completely confused, and then he saw it. The chair was growing, it’s legs squealed against the floor as though it were being dragged except it was not moving, only getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Jasmine stopped enlarging the chair when it was big enough to seat someone maybe half her size. Then her brow furrowed in concentration and the chair began to reduce back to its original state.
“That is incredible.”
“I learned a few tricks while you were asleep,” Jasmine said coquettishly.
“Tricks? Jasmine, transmutation is high level sorcery and changing the size of an object requires enormous amounts of power.”
Jasmine nodded thoughtfully. “I do feel a bit tired after I make things bigger, but only for a few minutes.”
Matt’s mind boggled, he was no transmutation expert but the amount of raw energy required to do what Jasmine had just done, with seemingly little effort, was certainly enormous. “Could you make a whole building grow? How long do you need to rest between transmutations? What’s the largest thing you’ve created?” He wished he had his notebook handy, the avenues of magic Jasmine’s abilities opened was simply astonishing.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there,” Jasmine chided. “You can geek out about magic later, I have a few other tricks I want to show you first.”
“Okay,” he nodded. Jasmine set him down on her stomach, just beneath the hem of her shirt. The position forced him to look up between the hills of her breasts to see her face. How could someone like him, a mage with little money no political status possibly deserve someone so beautiful? Hadn’t he asked her something to that effect? He had been so caught up in an animal fear of her size that he had not paid attention to her answer. Matt rifled through his memory and realized with a start that she had answered his question in the affirmative. She truly had requested him as her personal mage thus ensuring that he would be her constant travel companion henceforth and forever more. And more than that- she had hinted that their relationship was something more.
Matt’s love for magic was powerful, but the thought of being together with Jasmine in that way- he looked up at the breasts, straining against her v-neck shirt with broad crescents of cleavage overflowing, and corrected himself. Being together with her in this way, was everything he had dreamt about for months. Of course in those dreams Jasmine was only somewhat taller than him, not a colossal giantess that could squash him like a bug. This was certainly more exciting than anything he had envisioned. That and a lot more intimidating. The enormous tits in front of him were no doubt the largest in the world, and if Jasmine’s current height was any indication- they were still growing!
As if reading his thoughts Jasmine pinched the material of her shirt between her fingers and began to tug slowly upward. Matt watched transfixed as the material that had bunched beneath her heavy tits slowly slid free. There was an incredible amount of fabric. Enough to clothe a small town, surely, and yet Jasmine’s tits occupied so much space in the shirt that the hem failed to reach her waist. The shirt slid over her abdomen revealing foot after foot of flawless alabaster skin, the shady nook of her navel, and finally the pale underside of her bust which was beaded with perspiration. Her breasts pulled upward, seeming to swell outward as the shirt pulled their enormous mass towards her face. The undersides bulged out of the bottom of the shirt like two whales caught in a fisherman’s net, glistening with a patina of sweat.
The musk her body rolled over him, a spiced scent that was enticing and somehow grounding. Jasmine may have grown into a beauty of goddess proportions but she still smelled like herself. The shirt finally could not contain the weight of her bust and her breasts popped free with an audible slap as their undersides rebounded against her ribs. They jellied and bounced for a moment, their shape distinct and firm yet possessing a buoyancy only youthful breasts could have managed. At their base Jasmine’s breasts were wider around than a barrel of ale and their peaks reached up past his waist, nipples wobbling at a height not too distant from his own.
Jasmine’s fingers released her shirt and drifted down to explore the revealed treasure, sinking deep into her pliant flesh, squeezing and kneading. Matt’s penis stiffened and he felt an absurd surge of jealousy, wishing that his own hands could ply Jasmine’s bounty. He took a step forward without thinking and Jasmine immediately ‘Tsk’ed’ at him. A hand left Jasmine’s breast long enough to redeposit him on the floor between her legs. “Just watch,” she breathed.
And so he did.
Breast flesh surged up between Jasmine’s fingers and spilled over either side of her hands. The sight of her hands, enormous in their own right, overwhelmed by her tits was intensely erotic. The telltale thrill of climax began to engorge Matt’s loins and he clasped a protective hand over his groin. Jasmine displayed no such restraint, her pink nipples swelled to the size of wine corks and beyond- firm pegs of flesh that rivaled… Well, the part of his body that Jasmine’s nipples rivaled made Matt’s cheeks heat with shame. He knew it was ridiculous to make the comparison, but how could he possibly satisfy her at his size?
Jasmine was too lost in pleasure to take notice. Eyes were half-lidded her fingers tugged urgently at the her stiff nipples. Another scent rose from her body, sharp and tangy. Her eyes fluttered open and shifted down to stare at Matt’s crotch and her lips pursed disapprovingly. Matt was startled to realize he had been massaging himself through his pants. He offered Jasmine a sheepish look. “Silly man,” Jasmine purred, allowing a plump tit to drop from her hand and slap against her chest. She reached down to hook a finger in his trousers. “I’m not upset that you can’t contain your excitement.” Her finger tore his pants like tissue paper and his painfully stiff cock bounced free. “I want a better look.” The smooth pillars of her legs curled around him, drawing him close.
Her finger came to rest atop her pubic mound and a second later the top and bottom part of her panties withdrew from her sex. The brief flare of magic barely registered, Matt was too transfixed by the abrupt appearance of Jasmine’s perfect pink conch. Her pussy was beautiful, tight pink folds that opened slightly like the lips of a lover parting for a kiss. Hairless and glistening, her cunt was an undeniable testament to the femininity usually hidden beneath her knightly exterior. Yet it was also... Very big. The longer Matt stared at her wet folds the more intimidated he became. The spiced, tangy scent of her arousal did nothing to dispel his increasing sense of inadequacy. After all it was Jasmine’s own hands that had brought her to this point, what could he possibly offer her?
Miraculously, self-doubt seemed to have little effect on the iron hardness of his cock. Jasmine’s lewd display was an unstoppable force upon his libido and Matt’s breathing quickened even while his mind raced. “Stop,” Jasmine’s voiced huskily. Matt looked up in confusion. “You’re overthinking things.”
“Jasmine I-” he began plaintively.
“Shh,” she shushed him with a finger that covered most of his face. “There is only one thing I want that mouth of yours doing.” Jasmine used the same finger she had used to shush him to tap the top of her pussy suggestively. Matt blushed furiously, unable to think of any way to respond to that. Perhaps there was no way, and maybe that was the point. Jasmine took his hesitation as reluctance and with a deft motion pulled his body close. He stumbled when her hand stopped and was forced to catch himself on her inner thigh. Her skin was smooth and, judging by the shiver that trembled through her body, very sensitive. Heat radiated from her sex, bathing him in her scent. Anxiety and anticipation brewed with a sensory wonderland and left him standing in a stupor, inches from the promised land.
Jasmine sighed. “Am I going too fast?” Matt opened his mouth to respond and ended up gaping like a fish out of water. Jasmine laughed softly, but he could hear the edge of frustration behind it. His stomach sank into the floor, she was disappointed in him. The alabaster pillars of Jasmine’s thighs shifted suddenly and Matt stumbled backward as she rolled onto her stomach. Her buttocks were as magnificent as her breasts, flawless skin stretched over perfectly sculpted hemispheres of muscle. Her glutes were thickly padded with fat and possessed an enviable combination of plump firmness that made him want to jump in. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Jasmine purred. “Give it a kiss.”
Matt gawked, did she really want him to kiss her ass? Judging from the way she was smirking at him over her shoulder that was exactly what she wanted. And, suddenly, it seemed like precisely the right thing to do. Jasmine had intimidated him before growing into a goddess, now he felt more nervous than he had the first day at the academy. But kissing her ass felt different, it wasn’t the act of a lover- but a worshipper. That was something he could do. Without another thought he stepped forward, braced his arms on her thighs and leaned in to plant a kiss on the lower curve of her left cheek.
Jasmine giggled and Matt felt his cheeks heat with shame. “That tickles,” she said. Then after a moment added, “I didn’t say stop.” Matt obliging pressed his lips against her body, taking the time to savor the soft warmth of her skin, the pleasant musk of her body and- after opening his eyes- the incredible vista that was the landscape of her shape. She watched him, eyes bright with hunger. Something passed between them, inexplicable and intimate, and Matt’s fears evaporated in a flare of carnal need.
He dug his fingers into her thighs which barely dimpled their surface. His muscles went taut as he touched her urgently, sampling the pliability of her skin and the incredible power floating just beneath. He sampled the salt of her body kisses trailing down from her buttocks to her upper thighs, tracking slowly inward towards her sex. Heat and her overwhelming scent bathed his face once more and he began to kiss and nibble the edges of her nethers. His arms slicked with sweat as he teased Jasmine’s lips and he found himself slipping further and further in until his face was pressed firmly against the sopping surface of her slit. Juices sluiced over his tongue and his eyes widened- she was delicious! Unlike anything he had experienced before, a vaguely tropical and impossibly sweet flavor coated his tongue. He was so caught up in seeking more of her juices that he did not notice Jasmine’s fingers had joined his tongue until a digit rammed past inches from his face.
A second later Matt was airborne, gripped in Jasmine’s other hand and being rushed up her abdomen. Momentary nausea at the sudden change in perspective hazed his vision. When his eyes refocused he was greeted by the sight of an enormous tit being squeezed tightly in fingers filled beyond capacity. Wet squelching sounds filled the room and Jasmine’s breaths came fast and heavy, bouncing her unoccupied breast like an overfilled water balloon. Matt looked between her pleasure-drunk expression and the hand kneading the breast below him and noticed something strange.
Jasmine was growing. Visibly expanding to fill more of the room. “So big,” she muttered. She continued to speak but he could only make out a few words beneath her increasingly urgent moans “... grow…so tiny... so much bigger…” Whatever the missing words were her meaning was clear: Jasmine was not simply ‘okay’ with having grown- the experience was arousing her to the point of ecstacy and somehow causing her to grow even larger!
Her breasts lead the charge, expanding further beyond the reach of her fingers. Their expansion lifted her palms away from her ribs until her entire hand was cushioned by a thick pillow of tit that continued to swell towards her armpits. The hand holding him grew until the fingers comfortably wrapped his body and his shoulders and neck were gradually eclipsed by the upper ridge of her index finger. Her legs stretched lengthening further and her hand abandoned her breast to return to the now dripping wetness between her thighs. Jasmine’s moans reverberated in the room so powerfully it was certain half the district could hear her. She did not appear to care and grew larger still, moaning all the more for it.
Suddenly Matt’s body tensed, his hips bucked, and ropes of semen spurted from his cock. It happened so quickly he was left staring down at himself in shock as he emptied his seed into Jasmine’s hand in copious globs that seemed to drain every last drop of essence from his body. Five, six spurts and Matt deflated like a popped balloon. He sagged into Jasmine’s grip as his seed dripped down her fingers. After an excruciatingly long moment Jasmine’s attention flicked down to his crotch and her eyes widened in astonishment.
“Jasmine, I-” Matt’s throat constricted. He couldn’t speak, shame pressed on his chest like a vice. “P-please put me down,” he managed hoarsely. Jasmine complied slowly, concern joining the shock in her expression. The moment Matt’s feet touched the floor he tried to speak again and could not find the words. What could he possibly say? He had made a fool of himself. Jasmine had opened the door and he had tripped over the threshold. He turned away, unable to face her. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I have to go.”
He ran from the room before she could recover from her surprise.
***
Chapter 5
Matt shook the dust from his sleeves, he had to move. Lurking in an alley like some street tough was not a good look on a registered mage. Hiding was not going to solve any of his problems, and who was he hiding from anyway? Jasmine. Her face appeared in his thoughts the moment he finished asking himself the question. Shame followed hot on its heels, a deep ache that twisted his guts. He had finally been given the chance to be with her and he had blown it. Literally. He glanced back at the alley, really more of a nook between two brick structures built too close together, and considered crawling back inside. Maybe he could stay there until the Lovely Knight was called away on another quest. Except he would be expected to join her. As her mage.
The last vestiges of daylight receded over the horizon and dozens of lanterns sprang to life atop poles up and down the cobbled streets. Matt knew he should get back to the Academy to make his report, he was going to get scolded for dallying, but he found his feet carrying him in the opposite direction. Shops were closing their doors, merchants pulling heavy wooden doors shut one after the other. The city was by no means unsafe, but there was not a shopkeep on the continent that would leave his wares unprotected from thieving hands. The well-dressed folk all turned up the street heading in the opposite direction.
The lanterns lining the street became fewer and the darkness between them deeper as he went. Matt pressed on, paying little mind to the eyes that tracked him from the alleys, his thoughts were awhirl over what to do about Jasmine. Should he apologize? Maybe it was better to pretend it never happened. Did she think him pathetic now?
A loud bang wrenched his attention up in time to see a man ejected from a doorway and into the street. A jacket flew after him a second later and a burly man with densely furred arms stalked out. “The madame said ye, had enough. So ye had enough,” the burly man said. The man on the ground grumbled drunkenly before wobbling to his feet. He made it three steps down the street before he remembered his coat, returned to snatch it up off the ground, then went stumbling off in the opposite direction he had started down. Matt watched the entire scene play out with a faint smile before Berm, the burly man in the doorway, waved him over. “Haven’t seen ye in a while, mage.”
“Hello Berm,” Matt nodded respectfully to the man. “Any seats open at the bar?”
Berm glanced back through the door and rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “Full up tonight, but maybe you ask the madame all sweet-like and she’ll clear a space for you.”
“Wouldn’t that end up being you who clears a space for me then?”
Berm barked a laugh. “Suppose it would be me if it came to it, but don’t you try talking all sweet-like to me or I’ll throw you further than that other lout.” Matt raised his hands defensively, and found himself grinning. There was something about The Sweetest Head that never failed to lift his spirits. It was quite a clever name, taken from a well known line of poetry that went: in sweetest head lay darkest thoughts. A sign over the bar displayed: Home of the Darkest Draught, effectively turning the bar’s name into a double entendre where head referenced both body part and the froth atop its renowned beer.
Matt muttered a farewell to Berm as he moved into the dense press of bodies. Bare chested sailors, grizzled sellswords, a few merchants dressed down, and by the look of it a table full of noble’s sons that were doing their damndest to look like they fit in. They had the clothes right, but their posture was completely off- too straight backed and too interested in what others around them were doing and saying. Matt ignored the lot of them and headed straight to the bar, squeezing between a lanky man with knobby elbows and a plump woman with a face like a battleaxe. He barely got his mouth open before a sharp feminine voice cut him off, “We’re full up, if you want service try the Veranda.” The owner of the voice, a woman in her mid fifties with salt and pepper hair pulled tight into a bun turned to see if he’d gotten the message and her eyes widened.
“Matty!” Madame Theresa, owner and proprietor of The Sweetest Head dropped the rag she was holding and hurried over to pinch his cheek between her fingers. “What’s a fine upstanding magi like you doing in a place like this?”
Wincing from the pain in his cheek he gamely completed their greeting ritual, “Not looking for any trouble.”
“Well, you’re gonna find it.” Madame Theresa released his cheek and her smile faded. Her voice lowered to just above a whisper, “Heard you and Lovely were back in town, made a big scene in the quarter.”
“Yeah, you could say that. I’ll tell you all about it later, for now I could really use a drink.”
The Madame jerked her thumb towards the back staircase. “Veranda.” Matt sighed, the veranda was for tourists but judging from her stern expression the Madame was not going to change her mind. She pushed a mug of dark beer into his hands and, with a sigh, Matt pushed off from the bar. Careful not to spill his beer he dodged through the crowd and up the narrow staircase onto the veranda. Before he made it to the top he could hear a familiar voice, a very familiar voice. His heart skipped a beat as he pushed the door open and stepped out into the night air. Much like downstairs the veranda was crowded with patrons. A particularly boisterous bunch of ruffians were crowded around the bannister where the back of the building abutted a park.
What the men were crowded around caused Matt to stop in his tracks.
The enormous, grinning face of a fifty foot tall woman. Jasmine was propped up on her elbows, body stretched out into the darkness of the park while candle light danced playfully across her decolletage. Judging by their fullness he could tell her breasts were resting on the ground. A crevasse of cleavage stretched down out of sight beneath the railing, probably as long as he was tall. The men gathered around the railing were no doubt ogling her, and Matt found his jaw clenching with jealousy. Jasmine looked up at him and her smile faded slightly, but did not disappear. Why was she here? This was his refuge, the place he came when it felt that all the world was against him. He considered marching back down the stairs but Jasmine’s voice broke over the clamor before he could make a move, “Fellas, why don’t you pull a seat out for my friend here.”
The men at the railing turned as one and regarded Matt with skepticism. “This little fella?” a bushy bearded mountain of a man said, folding arms over a barrel chest. “Isn’t he a bit too small for you?”
“You are all very small to me,” Jasmine said calmly. This drew a clamor of bravado and posturing from the men until Jasmine quieted them with a challenge. “Okay then,” she said and Matt noticed for the first time that there was a slight slur to her words, she had been drinking. “Any man who can drink me under the table can spend the night with me.” This brought forth a surge of protests coupled with more absurd posturing. “I’ll match you barrel for pint,” she clarified, lifting a barrel from the edge of the veranda and downing the remainder of its contents in a single gulp.
The men had not cleared a space for Matt and he was not sure he would have taken it even if they had. What was Jasmine doing here? Was taking home one of these men her way of saying they were finished? Something about that seemed off. He studied Jasmine as she watched her diminutive competition chug their beers and realized what it was. She had the same look in her eye she got whenever a man challenged her to a fight or attempted to ‘put her in her place’. She was not looking for a man to take home, she was looking to win. Matt had no idea where that left the two of them. With a sigh he took a seat well away from the railing and watched the scene play out.
Jasmine dropped an enormous sack of coins into barmaids hands and told her to ‘keep ‘em coming’ which began a procession of men lumbering up the stairs with heavy casks of beer strapped to their backs. One of these was kept to supply the group of Jasmine’s challengers and the rest became her personal stock. She drank like a champion, popping the tops of kegs with a nail then draining the contents in long swallows that did not spill a drop. The men at the railing joined eagerly, pounding their own beers and giving raucous cheers whenever a round was finished. One of the men, a lanky fellow with beady eyes, turned to Matt. “What about you, friend, afraid of a little competition?”
“No,” Matt snapped reflexively and immediately regretted it. Eyes once more fixed upon him, faces twisted with contempt and dismissal. His face grew hot and he flagged down the barmaid and thrust out his mug. A few of the men cheered him on but the lanky man merely scoffed and turned back to ogle Jasmine. Matt had a sudden, violent urge to summon a gust of wind to topple the man over the railing. After a long steadying breath he stayed his hand. Knocking her patrons over the balcony would not go over well with the Madame, and gods forbid word ever got back to the academy. Matt downed his beer long gulps that sloshed over the edges of his mouth and damped his robe.
“Two more to catch up!” One of the men called and the barmaid obligingly topped him off the moment he was finished.
“This’ll make quite a story,” another man bellowed jovially.
“I’ll tell you a story.” Jasmine’s voice thrummed powerfully, quieting the crowd. “On orders from the Queen my companion and I were hunting a group of brigands in the Sunken Swamp, men who had robbed and murdered half a dozen merchant caravans. Their leader liked to cut off heads and stack them on the road.” The crowd hushed and men leaned in to listen even though Jasmine’s voice carried well enough for a half deaf man to hear. “My companion and I tracked the murderers through the swamp to a small fort and there waited for them to venture out. For two days we waited in that godsforsaken bog, warding off flies as big as plums and snakes big enough to swallow babes. Finally, on a morning so hot you could see the air shimmer with it, our prey appeared.”
The drinking game continued without comment, everyone’s focus on Jasmine’s tale. She sat up and gesticulated through the exciting combat that followed. Outnumbered five to one she cut through her opponents like a sickling wind and her companion was always there, guarding her back and confounding her enemies. To Jasmine’s credit the embellishments to the battle were few, and Matt dared not correct her, she deserved a little artistic license he supposed. Plus it felt good to be described in such heroic terms, at the time he had been near to pissing himself with fear. The men roared with approval as Jasmine finished describing the battle, a total victory for the Lovely Knight and her arcane companion. Another round toasted their victory and the first couple men hit the floor, done in by the alcohol. Their fellows hardly noticed as Jasmine went on.
“Our victory, in turned out, was not without cost.” Jasmine continued, slurring more heavily now. “I had losht my boots!” A chuckle rolled through the crowd. “Its funny now,” she agreed. “But the waters of the Sunken Swamp hide devilish creatures that will suck the marrow from your bones if they can get at your shkin.”
“Its true,” a baritone voice rose from the crowd. “Me brother lost a leg to those wriggling bastards.”
Jasmine tilted her head in sympathy before continuing on. “So I was good as crippled without my boots.”
“I would have carried you, Lovely,” one of the men cried.
Jasmine shook her head. “You would have failed. The sucking mud of the swamp would have pulled you down, I’m no lithe princess to be carried about.” The man who had spoken out grumbled but could come up with nothing else to say. “What would the rest of you done, how would you have rescued me?” The crowd murmured but none offered a reasonable solution. A couple said they would have given their own boots but the rest knew that to be false bravado and the conversation began to devolve into argument. Jasmine quelled it, “My companion knew what to do. There is a tree in the Sunken Swamp that is hollow on the inside and rides high in the water. My companion bundled these hollow trees and lashed them together with vines to create a raft. He towed me acrosh that swamp to safety.” Jasmine did not mention that her companion had nearly collapsed half a dozen times and they had been forced to camp in the swamp for days while he recovered from fever. In her version he heroically marched her straight back across the swamp without a word of complaint. Matt was pretty sure he had grumbled the entire way. And yet.. he felt his chest warming from more than just alcohol.
“Well who was this hero?” someone challenged. “Beric the Brave? Lord Theo the Tall?” In response Jasmine pointed and everyone turned, for the third time that evening, to stare at Matt. He simultaneously felt like puffing out his chest and hiding under the table. Their expressions ranged from shock to jealousy. The lanky man who had challenged him earlier actually spat in contempt. Matt was about to glance away when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Light caught amber liquid flowing from the mug dangling from the man fingers, plunging over the balcony into the darkness.
“He’s cheating!” Matt was on his feet, ponting. The lanky man quickly righted his mug, but too late.
“What’s this Lem, think a no-good cheat deserves to spend a night with Lovely?” The bushy bearded man growled. Lem look between the huge man and Jasmine and finally threw down his mug.
“Who wants to be with that overgrown bitch anyway?” Lem snarled. An instant later, his eyes bulged and he began to gibber incomprehensibly. Matt did not recall speaking the incantation but he knew the effects of a fear curse all the same. Piss flooded the front of Lem’s pants and he went running for the stairs. Matt released the magic clouding the man’s mind but shame and lingering terror drove Lem down the stairs and out of sight just as effectively. It was a stupid thing to have done, mind-affecting magic required either a great deal of intimacy or a target with a very weak mind. He had done it without thinking and immediately felt ashamed. The rest of the crowd looked stunned, but Jasmine wore a knowing smile. He glanced up at her sheepishly before burying his face in his mug.
“Come on, hero.” The bushy bearded man said, gesturing to the spot Lem had occupied. “There’s a spot here with your name on it.” Recovering from their shock the others added their voices in support.
Reluctantly, Matt made his way over to the open spot. “The name’s Matt.”
“Hero Matt,” the bushy bearded man clapped him on the shoulder and introduced himself as Marcus. Matt took a seat next to the balcony and could immediately see the appeal of this vantage: Jasmine’s cleavage was resplendent between the straps of a red dress she must have fashioned from magic. The fabric and cut were equal to the work of a skilled weaver, Jasmine was getting better at magic so quickly it was almost scary. Her chin tilted down and Matt looked up to see her attention fastened on him. He felt like he should say something but could not find the right words. Marcus raised a cry for another round and the moment passed.
The contest continued in earnest and Matt found himself falling further and further behind. The veranda began to spin, lantern lights blurring and bleeding together like someone had smeared bright paint across the night. Men dropped out one after the other either hitting the floor or running to the railing to empty their stomachs over the edge. Jasmine swayed softly as well, the pile of empty barrels testament to the enormous quantity of beer she had consumed. Finally it was down to Marcus, Matt, and Jasmine- though truth be told he was half a dozen rounds behind, a line of full mugs stretched across the table in front of him.
A hand clapped over Matt’s shoulder and Marcus’s ruddy red cheeks swam into view. “You got a big heart for such a small fella,” the big man rumbled. He winked at Matt then turned and slumped to the ground. Matt surveyed the tilting landscape of the rooftop and saw there was not a single man left at the balcony, Jasmine had drunk them all out of commission. He should not be surprised- he had seen her drink men under the table when she had been a tenth of her current size. And yet, the men that frequented The Sweetest Head were drunkards and ruffians all- not the noble sort Jasmine typically consorted with. Out-drinking these men was a feat, even for her. Matt met her eyes- or at least tried to- the roof was rocking like a ship in a storm.
“You’re a few behind, hero Matt,” Jasmine slurred. Matt looked from the sparkling windows of her eyes to the menacing row of beer on the table before him and stood up. Too quickly- his back hit the rail and he tipped over the side of the building. Raw terror gripped his heart as he spun and twisted sickeningly through open air. Something sturdy and powerful stopped his fall and lifted him back up onto the veranda. Jasmine gently deposited him back in his chair. Matt mumbled thanks, heart still thumping wildly in his chest. Adrenaline washed away the murky haze of alcohol and in a moment of clarity he made a decision. He was going to be the kind of hero Jasmine talked about in her story.
“Matt,” Jasmine began softly, her voice almost consoling. Matt ignored her, facing the row of beers he picked up the nearest mug and drank it down as fast as he could manage. “Matt,” Jasmine said again, a little more firmly.
“If I win, I get to spend the night with you, right?” Matt said without meeting her gaze. “That was the deal.” When she did not immediately reply he snatched up another mug and began to guzzle the dark, rich liquor. It sloshed into his nearly full stomach and he cursed, if he were not so small he could drink this much with ease. By the time he finished the second mug his stomach was tight as a drum. He gripped the handle on a third mug and eyed the three remaining with grim determination. He would show her. He would prove to her he was worthy.
“Matt,” Jasmine said, tone tinged with exasperation.
He ignored her and tipped the mug to his lips taking long, slow swallows that made his head swim and his stomach ache. Two thirds of the way in he gasped, and had to pull the mug away as violent hiccups ripped through his body. “Matt,” Jasmine said firmly. “That’s enough. You don’t have to prove-”
“Yes I do!” He shouted. “I have to do this.” He lifted the mug back to his lips and hiccupped, bile rose in his throat. Matt fought the rising sensation, fought the dizziness that tried to wrench him to the floor- and lost. With a horrible sound he emptied his stomach into the mug. Once, twice, thrice- and then he was staring up at the stars. The sky spun in circles, pinpricks of light streaking into lines, tiny whirlpools of radiance. Jasmine’s face appeared and her eyes were the brightest lights in the firmament, steady and sparkling with concern. Warm breath heavy with the scent of booze washed over him as she sighed and began to whisper something.
A coil of frigid energy raced through Matt’s blood and his muscles went rigid. His robes grew damp as he shivered and sweated for long, intense seconds. When the strange sensation ended he felt wrung out, exhausted. “That-” he mumbled, tipsy but no longer drunk. “That’s my spell.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine smirked. “Some guy used to cast it on me after a night of poor decisions.”
“I lost.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes which, given their proximity, was quite dramatic. “You weren’t supposed to win, dummy. They were supposed to lose.”
Whether it was the lingering effects of too much alcohol or the feeling that he had nothing to lose Matt felt suddenly free. “I wanted to win you.”
Jasmine smiled softly and, surprisingly, the flash of giant teeth scare him the way it had before. “I’m not a prize to be won.”
Matt shook his head. “I mean, I wanted to earn your affection.”
“Oh?” Jasmine arched an eyebrow. “And who gets to decide whether you’ve ‘earned my affection?” Her words slurred slightly and had a belligerent lilt. “Did you decide when you had earned your robe at the academy?”
“Well, no.” That was the responsibility of the supervising adept.
“Then what makes you think it’s up to you?” Jasmine rose up and the enormous, erotic wall of her bust lifted into view. If she leaned forward she could have buried almost the entire Veranda beneath those heavenly orbs. “Who do you think deserves all this?” she gestured at her overflowing curves. Nobles, princes, and kings paraded through Matt’s thoughts- wealthy and powerful men all- but none seemed deserving of Jasmine. She had the body of a goddess, possessed unparalleled beauty, and was the bravest person he knew.
He shook his head, “ I don’t know.”
Jasmine snorted dismissively. “I’ll tell you who.” She slowly lowered her chest, knocking tables and chairs out of the way like pieces of kindling. The roof groaned as the weight of her bust settled on its edge, the railing buckling with a squeal of metal. Her breasts rolled forward and Matt’s feet were buried in the avalanche of cleavage as Jasmine asserted control. “Who.” The walls of breast flesh surged and began to swallow him. “Ever.” Matt let out a yelp as her cleavage plunged him into darkness. “I,” her voice rumbled all around him. A lurching sense of motion made his stomach drop into his feet. “Want,” Jasmine finished. The tips of log-sized fingers fished him from her cleavage, pulling him up so that his arms rested atop the incredible curvature of her bust.
Matt gasped.
The city spread below them, a sea of lanterns that were somehow a reflection of the stars dazzling the night sky. Jasmine’s words hit him and his throat constricted. Why me? He felt at once incredibly blessed and horribly unworthy. Jasmine’s heartbeat drummed in his ears until his racing heart slowed to match her steady rhythm. Was it raining? He wiped at his eyes and felt the pressure in his chest gradually relax- at least the portion that was not the result of being wedged in Jasmine’s colossal cleavage. “Okay,” he rasped.
“What was that,” Jasmine’s voice thrummed all around him.
“Okay!” he said more loudly. “You wi-” He cut off as the night sky abruptly vanished and was replaced by Jasmine’s quarters. She had teleported them!
The powerful heartbeat behind him quickened and Matt’s pulsed raced to match it. “We’re gonna finish what we started,” Jasmine growled, plucking him from between her tits. Wind rushed by as she lowered him down to the plush nest of blankets that was her bed. With a wave of her hand her clothes vanished and Matt gawked as the suddenly naked giantess lowered herself onto him. He barely registered the glistening lips of her sex before they swallowed him in a hot cocoon of desire.
Comments
CW Moss
Great chapter GTortoise!
