Empty Bottles

The first thing that John noticed upon entering his tent were the clinking noises of shifting pieces of glass. He glanced down at his feet as he stumbled through the entrance flap and watched as he accidentally kicked a trio of small, spherical-shaped potion vials aside. They were all mostly empty, and the room smelled deeply of sweat, sex, rum, and... strangely, patchouli. The long, slender, and clear necks on the top of each bottle were stained faintly with traces of faded lipstick around the vials’ openings, but more than that... John could still see small drops of a glowing greenish liquid resting on the bottom of each glass. There wasn't enough left to drink, or even pour out of the bottles, and a lot of the liquid remnants had dried up, but he could still see it.

The bottles weren't the only surprising thing. When John finally walked back into the tent, he found his mother lying on the bed, as if she was waiting for him. Though, it was more like she was set up to look like she had been waiting for him. Immediately upon entering, his eyes were drawn away from the trash he was kicking around to her utterly naked body. She wasn't even wearing her collar anymore. All of her clothing had long since been forgotten, to the point that he didn't even see it in the tent! It had all been replaced with long, winding lines of soft brown rope, and that still covered nothing. It just kept her hands bound neatly behind her back and her knees pressed up high against her chest. Her jet black, shoulder-length, braided hair was matted to her head and slick with sweat. From her bloodshot eyes she had long, dried, black lines of day-old makeup trailing down onto her cheeks, and her pupils were huge and round. When she looked at John-

No, it wasn't John she looked at. Her eyes fell onto his crotch.

A low line of incomprehensible sounds passed through her lips, noises that could barely be heard. The problem wasn't that she was gagged or muffled in any way, she just didn't say anything coherent that John could understand. She thrusted her hips up at the air, wordlessly demanding attention for her swollen, red, glistening pussy... and then she moaned when her pussy lips caught the breeze coming in from outside. Her bare, naked form shivered while waves of goosebumps danced up her skin as her clit throbbed and pulsed hugely atop her mound. The little bean was barely visible from where John stood and slick with juices like the rest of her slit as more and more of her arousal seemed to drip continuously down the shapely curve of her firm ass. It pooled in the furs beneath her, adding to the stifling scents in the room, and walking into the hazy scent almost immediately had John hard for some reason.

He was worried for a moment that she might have been hurt or that Urga had gone too far, but his mother pushed the thought from his head for the time being. Her eyes and her voice begged him with such a ridiculous amount of need that he went forward as if to help her before he could even think about finding and scolding Urga. His gaze landed on her breasts and on the way her aroused nipples stabbed at the air hugely. They were so swollen, so puffy, and so, a part of him dared to think, altered that, when he touched her, they started to drip with slow, thin lines of milk. It dripped down the generous swell of her breasts, across the length of her abdomen, and then stopped to pool in her navel just because John had squeezed his fingers into one of her large thighs. The slight curvature of the bed helped to **** her milk to descend down her body, but it restricted John's ability to think clearly when he watched it happen.

His pants strained as his cock flexed to life painfully within the confines of his hide clothing. It locked him so tightly against his own thigh that he almost felt bound and trapped for a moment. He realized that he needed to take them off, and when he did, his mother lost her voice. She squeaked once upon seeing the familiar fat girth of his shaft and let her eyes gradually explore along his length for as long as she could, before she fell completely silent. She didn't even mutter after that. John went to kneel in front of her, and with a slight arch of her back, his mother slid down the gentle slope of the bed until her plump ass set against him. He felt her firm rear press into the crook of his lap and then gasped when he realized how hot her skin felt. Her pussy burned like a furnace when he finally let his cock drop to rest on top of her mound. His weight fell on her lips with a small slap and **** her lips to squish and grip against the underside of his member like he had been the fuel for her fire.

Her skin burned so hotly that just touching her with his prick was enough to make his cock start pulsing. He let the head of his member fall directly onto her clit and then almost forgot about scolding Urga entirely as he watched his mother's eyes instantly roll up and out of sight. Her throat worked tensely for a long moment as she drenched his crotch with every desire that had been pent up and left to build in his absence, and just like the rest of her, her juices felt extraordinarily warm. A loud groan echoed out of John and out through the tent’s thin walls as her squirt steadily began to drip and trickle off his balls, drowning his own senses and thoughts with the wonder of her heat rolling off him... and then he gave up on helping her. He didn't bother to untie her, he just looked around for the collar she had surprised him with the other day. When he found it again, where it had been set aside in Urga's small box of possessions, he put it back on his mother and watched her skin flush red like she had earned it again...

... though it was entirely possible that she didn't even notice that he had put it back on her.

After that, he waited. He watched his mother shake and cum again and again at his touch, and he wondered how jumbled her thoughts were. She didn't seem like she was in a normal or even sane state of mind, and it didn't help when he just left his fat cock pulsing on top of her sex. He waited for her to come back down from her overdue orgasm and sat there, with a surprising amount of patience, until her dilated pupils came back into view. She stared at him- No, that wasn't right.

She stared at his cock again, like nothing had even changed.

That surprised John almost enough to help him start thinking clearly again... almost. When Brenda started to pivot and grind her hips back against him, sliding the bottom of his length up and down between her pussy lips, John decided that he had to go further. He had to at least try to help clear the pent up haze from her mind, and there was only one way that he could think of to do that... so he pinned her down against the bed. With a hand pressed on her waist and another on her thigh, he stopped her from moving before she could thoroughly lose her mind by just rubbing her clit against him. He took a long, weak, shaky breath, feeling the way his own body started to heat up with her. He arched his way back up above her, pivoted his hips around until the tip of his dick was lined up with her entrance... and then he buried himself in her.

Even with a size bigger than the one he had last shown her, than the one that he had **** her to stretch and adjust to, John slipped inside his mother like it was nothing at all. She was so wet and ready for him that, for a moment, John didn't even realize that her walls were almost being stretched taut around him. She gripped him like she was already used to his new size and began to coil around him like her pussy had been perfectly molded just to fit his cock again... but from the way he split her open, he knew it wasn't true. Her womb opened up like it had been natural, like it wasn't an effect caused by the first time he had tried to cast a spell on her, and he stuffed her from her lips up to her womb. His full, heavy balls slapped hard against Brenda's backdoor, battering her other hole like it was his next intended target, and her whole body jerked upwards as he moved faster than he had been intending to. The feeling made her toes curl and lock up as that one thrust shot sensations down her legs like little bolts of lightning. Her lips moved and quivered, as if to make a noise, but still she remained silent. Her mouth just stayed open like she was stuck in a moment of endless, silent, screaming pleasure. Her eyes stared at nothing. She didn't even look at John or his cock anymore when he pushed inside of her. Her eyes didn't even roll back. It was like she just stopped bothering to see, and her vision was lost to the empty space around them when John skewered her womb on the head of his dick.

Her pussy was the only thing that actually seemed remotely focused. Her walls actually pulled and squeezed so tightly at John that when he drew back for another thrust it was almost like the way she craved him had been physically ingrained in her body's reactions. Her sex physically struggled to pull him back into her; she clung to him even as the raking feeling of his cockhead and veiny shaft tugging on her folds on the way out completely overwhelmed her. When he stopped at last with no more than an inch of his manhood still left inside her, he finally relented and thrust again, careening and smashing along her inner walls in a powerful arch. Her hips lifted with the strength of her son's impatient thrust and then stopped and hung in the air as he kept her burning cunt impaled on his size. His own eyes squeezed shut as he felt her body finally start to struggle with the entirety of his shaft, and a gasp of relief escaped him when her quim's crushing tightness finally relaxed slightly after every last sensation he had just put it through. For a couple of moments, it almost worried him to learn how badly she needed this. A part of her mind seemed to hunger for it now, even past the point where it started to tire her out, and he almost pulled away when her constant pleasure didn't seem to help her think any more clearly. He might have withdrawn...

... if not for the fact that it was too tempting each time to go back in for another thrust.

Their hips beat against each other, harder and harder until John was sure that the campsite was full of the lewd, slapping sounds of their mating and his thrusts had slapped her butt into a vibrant shade of pink. He didn't even care about the idea of an audience any longer. A part of him, the part that burned in his chest when he got angry or felt dominant, even spurred him on for them. He remembered how he had taken Urga and how she had shared her voice with him and the camp, and then he felt the urge to do that again. As far as he was concerned, if they wanted to listen to his prowess... then they would hear it. Her shapely ass practically molded against him, squeezing around the new firmness of his muscular thighs, and then it bounced away again when he pulled back. The milk from her nipples never grew in terms of the strength of the spray, the size, or the amount of it, but the gentle trickle never stopped dripping either. Her own lactation even seemed to tease her further when she felt it trailing down her skin.

Surely though, she did feel it. As John quickly found out, she didn't seem to miss anything that touched against her body. When John's cock started to pulse and twitch, her eyes finally snapped down to the place where they were joined. Her legs flexed uselessly against her ropes, and her lips gradually dripped with drool, while she squeezed on his cock like it was what she had been made for. She locked the head of his shaft in her womb as John reached his threshold... and then went completely limp as his balls lifted and pulsed and the first, long, thick line of seed burst out inside of her.

John fired again and again, painting her innermost walls white with his seed. His cock swelled at his orgasm, sealing her tunnel around his shape while he throbbed thicker and thicker with each individual jet, until, finally, her womb began to fill and space seemed to almost run out inside of her. His balls pulsed in the crack of her ass, making her tremble and her breathing hitch with each beat while he dumped his cum inside of her. At every spurt, Brenda's back arched further and further up into the air. She writhed with him, particularly around the start of his orgasm, and then began to move slower and slower as his orgasm came to an end, tapering off like his pleasure had been her own for a brief moment of time. Her chest rose and fell with his as they both gasped for air in equal measure while his orgasm came to a gentle trickle... and then her eyes finally moved to meet his own gaze. She actually stared at John this time, though a sense of need still remained buried deep within her vision. They shared a smile, and then John moved to pull back, feeling her tighten to squeeze the last remaining dredges out of him, and the tide of cum his cock had been holding inside of her suddenly squirted around his shaft. His cock was almost **** all the way out by the strength of the current, before he managed to stop himself, but it was still enough for their mixed juices to begin spurting out from beneath his dick like a small, half-stoppered waterfall.

"No!" Brenda finally cried out when she felt his cum start to pour down the valley of her ass. The brief moment of clarity in her gaze was banished as she immediately thrust back against John and plugged the leak back up, popping his head all the way back up into her womb. Her eyes widened, and her pupils seemed to grow and dilate again at his full presence... but she didn't lose the ability to talk this time. She still saw him and showed some kind of improvement. "M-more! More!" she snapped at him and then bucked wildly in his crotch. The rough, jerky movements weren't as good as some of the expert rolling and grinding motions that she usually made with her hips, but they were still enough to stroke him back up to his full size. When he didn't seem to obey her, she resorted to another tactic... begging.

"Please..." her voice wasn't as hoarse as John expected it to be. It was soft and surprisingly healthy, but even if she sounded fine, or perhaps even better than she normally did, she still wasn't talking like the one he knew. Her body twisted and writhed, moving just enough to stroke back and forth along the one inch of his shaft that she could easily reach with him already stuffed inside of her. Each thrust pushed her clit against his crotch, brushing one of her most sensitive spots against his groin time and time again. "I nnn..." her voice died in her throat for a moment, a thick spurt of his cum pushed out past her pussy lips, dripped down into the crook of her ass, and then she tried again. "I need more..." she said, and John obliged. One more thrust was all he gave her at first, he **** himself to grind back up against the walls of her womb, and a smile broke across her face because of it. "Fill me..."

"Just one more time..." John muttered as his mother clawed at the fur sheets beneath them. He watched as her gaze slid away to stare at the empty space again while he taught her how to scream again, and then when the crowds began to audibly gather outside his tent, he gave her another creampie, packing her womb full until it felt like it had to stretch and expand just to hold all of his seed. His cock shot enough cum to **** John into pulling all the way out after his second orgasm, and this time she was too tired to stop him. He filled her up, just like she had asked him to, and watched as waves of white liquid began to pour out in thick, churned lumps before he finished shooting the rest of his load onto her stomach and finally collapsed beside his mother to rest.

She was still catching her breath and learning to think clearly again when John finally closed his eyes. He fell asleep listening to her try to tell him that she couldn't seem to think clearly without his cum inside her. He kept listening to her tell him that she wanted more or, in some sentences, she needed it.

A little while after John closed his eyes, he was in a dream again. It wasn't... hazy or confusing. His mind didn't try to hide the fact from him that it was a dream. He knew it almost immediately, so it didn't surprise him when he found that he was no longer in his tent or even in the village that he had raided, Bleakfield. He wasn't sure exactly where he was. He could hear the whistling of cold winds and the crackling of warm fireplaces, but the only thing he could see was a single room. A large, stone-built, grey room spanned out around him on all sides. There was no entrance or exit to the room. The only thing that John had to tell him that there was a world outside the room was a line of giant, floor-to-ceiling, glass windows that spanned one wall off to his side. Between each window stood a large stone pillar, made up of dozens of little grey rocks piled together. Iron-set sconces hung from each one with a torch burning freely off the walls. On his other side, a large, roaring, grey fireplace called for his immediate attention with the sounds and smells of burning wood while an ever-swirling blizzard rampaged through the mountainous horizon outside.

The room was littered with little flames like that, until it felt like it was almost stifling hot inside. Lit candles and dormant books with blank covers spanned the surfaces of three tables that had been spread throughout the room. Besides each table sat a large, vibrant, sea blue love seat to rest and read upon. When he looked at them, John almost gasped when he saw how the lines of stitching had been decorated to try and help hide how quickly it had been sewn together. Row after row after row of glistening, translucent, blue gemstones stuck out on the corners and edges of each of couch, hiding every hem and stray bit of string from eyesight. Before he could try to guess what the kind of gem was, a voice from behind him told him that they were topazes and that 'the blue ones' had always been her favorite. His toes curled into the fluffy tufts of a massive, furry, brown carpet, and it was at that point that John realized he was still naked. His feet almost sunk into the rug as he spun around to face the owner of the voice and quickly found himself relishing how warm the ground felt between his toes.

Directly behind John was a bed, bigger than any he had ever seen before. A large, four poster piece with intricate, carved, panels of yellow pine wood filled the other side of the room. It was mostly hidden behind curtains of soft, sheer, white silk and covered in piles of blankets made of short, white fur, but it didn't hide the figure that sat on the edge of it.

She smiled at John when he finally chose to see her, his brow lifting slightly when he saw her amiable expression, but she made no attempt to help him cover himself up. She just watched and let out a few muffled giggles into her palm as John tried to move a hand down over his crotch. The tips of her sinuous, waist length, chocolate-brown hair dragged along the bed behind her as she slowly stood up. Eyes colored like shiny golden coins stared up at John from almost a foot below him as she stepped close enough for him to smell her, and he almost leaned in for more when he realized that she had a perfume or something that reminded him of freshly made chocolate chip cookies.

Her apple-sized breasts jiggled and bounced slightly within the confines of a short, candy-red nightdress, but she didn't seem to even notice or blush when John stared down into the neck of it. Her height put him at the perfect angle to gape down into her cleavage, but if she noticed, she didn't say. She just stared back at him, while a matching, transparent pink robe failed to block his vision as she simply left it hanging open. Her thick, bare thighs radiated warmth into his skin as she stepped up and into his personal space. A long, silent minute passed with the two of them just standing there as her legs pressed gently against his half-hardened pole. Her soft skin squeezed and revitalized him slowly, until finally... John was hard enough again to feel his cock bounce and slap into the wet heat between her legs.

She merely smiled again and almost went to step away from him before her nipples suddenly hardened. Both of their eyes dropped to the front of her dress as they stuck out from her clothing like a pair of tiny marbles, and then he felt her pussy start to drip on his cock. A little gasp echoed in the room, louder than even the roaring fire itself somehow... and then she rushed away from him before John could touch her. She sat down on the edge of the bed again, and her high cheekbones flushed with color. She bit down idly on one of her smallest fingers, curling her full lower lip around the single digit, before she spoke in a small voice with a strange sense of wonder.

"So it's true then..." she said and looked right at John's turgid mast. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she stared at him and squeezed her legs together. Her thighs were so full and so soft that John could almost imagine the sound they made when they came squishing together to hide the wetness between them. A wetness that his aura had brought out. She bit down on her lower lip and then her finger again as her wide, child-bearing hips rolled unconsciously and slid her wetness across the pile of furs beneath her. "You somehow stole her gift...." she muttered and finally pulled her robe tighter around her form. It didn't hide anything, but it did give her the bravery to rub just a little brazenly against the bed.

"S-stole?" John asked, more than a little confused after what had just happened. It was still just a dream... right? Why did everybody seem to think that he had stolen something? He had barely even used his Theft ability! "What are you talking about? I haven't stolen anything!" he said. It wasn't completely true, though, but he figured it was better to just deny everything. The woman paused, and all at once, the fires in the room died down. Her brow furrowed, and she drew her finger away from her lips and then quickly tucked it into a little fist... as if it would somehow hide the fact that her tongue had left the tip of the digit wet.

"I can feel it..." she insisted, catching onto his lie almost immediately, and then her brow lifted slightly, and her eyes widened. She blinked and then waved her hand at John. An indiscernible look crossed over her features, and then she almost gasped as she pulled her hand back again. "... but you're not cursed, or at least not by her. Why hasn't she cursed you for stealing it? You're not strong enough to steal her aura." John finally caught on at that. She was talking about his Waves of The Nile ability. He took a step back away from the woman with chocolate hair and **** himself to try and start thinking with the right head.

"I didn't steal the aura. I earned it... on my own," he said and watched as the woman went to raise her hand again. She started to wave his statement off, like it was just another one of his lies, before she stopped. Her head inclined slightly as she listened hard to the tone of his voice, and then she scrunched up her face in a fit of confusion.

"That doesn't make sense! Someone of your caliber couldn't just recreate her gift like it was nothing! It would have to be given to you! The only two people I can think of that are powerful enough to recreate that spell are-" she stopped suddenly and almost choked on her own words. Her eyes widened and wavered as she looked at John and mouthed a single name... Gaia... and then she swallowed hard. "You should leave," she muttered rather abruptly. The frisky mood that the dream had started with vanished suddenly, and John almost tried to will it back into happening before she suddenly scolded him. "Stop that. I will decide who gets to be my first. You don't control this..." she said and then snapped her fingers. The fires in the room were suddenly snuffed out, all except for the one in the fireplace, and she went to point at him before she stopped... He could see her visibly thinking through her actions as she leveled a single finger at him, and then one corner of her lips twisted up into a small smile.

"I do hope that you found my home... hospitable. I tried to rearrange it in a way that might seem welcoming, but it's been a while since I've had a guest." She smiled, letting him see her relax for a moment before she snapped her fingers again... and John started to breathe easier. Her fingers waggled in the air in front him for a short second, and then her smile widened. "That should help with your corruption issue, but only for a little while! Get rid of any necromancy items you might have while you still can. You don't want any of that stuff to leave its mark on you. In the meantime, if you ever need my help again, you know how to reach me!" she remarked with a polite giggle and then went to hug him. Her smaller arms squeezed John tight to her tiny form, until he surely feel her breasts squeezing against him, and then she pushed John towards a nearby wall.

"What? No, I don'-" he started saying before he looked up and stared at the door that had not been there mere seconds ago. "I-"

"Just make sure that next time, you actually call me by my name. Don't be such a stranger!" The walls shifted as they got closer to the exit. Signs with silly puns and homely pictures shifted on and off the walls. A short, busty, redheaded woman appeared in one frame for a second with some words printed next to her before it disappeared.

"I don't know your name!" he cried, and the door burst open. Screaming, icy winds called out to him and almost deafened John as she held him at the edge of the doorframe. He could feel the wind and hail beating on his naked body already and moved to try and cover himself up, but it didn’t help.

"Yes, you do, silly! You just have to find it! For now, I'll give you a hint, you can call me Tia!" she said, and her voice echoed out over the roaring winds somehow, and then she pushed him out of her home. John stumbled through the doorway and fell... right back into his tent. He landed in his bed with a hard, heavy thump, in the exact same spot where he had fallen asleep...

... and then he woke up.