Making Improvements

Surabi

As the little man continued to drink from her, she idly combed her fingers through his hair.

Surabi could still hardly believe Myo’s **** to drink from her teats. It was completely unprecedented, but he’d seen it her way quickly enough once she'd promised to grow him.

Now, he suckled eagerly, and she would see to it that he would not show such **** ever again. A little extra dopamine, something to inhibit serotonin reuptake, and he would initiate his next feeding without her needing to push him. In a matter of weeks, he would reject solid foods entirely.

“That’s it… claim your reward. Whenever you need sustenance, you may need only reach out and take it, take what is yours. I promise to never deny you, as your mother did. You shall be welcome at my breast for the rest of your days.” She cooed down at him.

In truth, Surabi could not have refused to feed him even if she wanted to. He didn’t need to ask her permission when one of his high-pitched screams had caused her to express milk for the first time in weeks. He was potently cute on a primal and instinctive level, and her body would always meet his needs. His mere presence was more than enough to ensure that her breasts would never run dry, even in this parched landscape, and that was a gift worth encouraging.

After his admission of a motherless upbringing, she became certain that his small body was a result of neglect and malnutrition, not a true weakness of his lineage. It came as no shock to her when he wished for strength and size above all else, considering the state she found him in. She hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed when she explained that his skeleton was fused, that there was only so much a sculptor could shape fired clay.

Yet, the soft tissues—his muscles and organs—were far more plastic. It wouldn’t be enough for Surabi to merely nurse him back to health, she meant to improve everything about his fragile body.

First, his bone density would have to be increased. Surabi could heal broken bones quickly, but it was always better to prevent breaks than to mend them. So, she mobilized the calcium-phosphate from her own skeleton, channeling the extra minerals into her milk, alongside certain hormones that would encourage the deposition of these elements in his bones.

His muscle mass was pitiful, and so she added a myostatin-inhibitor to her milk. Exercise should help, but this way he would start to grow stronger, and much more quickly than mere training could have allowed. A larger, stronger heart would grant him greater endurance, something he desperately needed, especially for the act of coupling.

She moved her hand from his head down to his loins. The little man was stiff for her, a good sign, but this was clearly one area where his diminutive size did not inspire adoration.

His male organs were pitifully undersuited to her needs, and there was no chance the others would accept a male that couldn’t provide satisfaction on demand. This cock would have to grow. She would need to feed him adequate quantities of testosterone and other growth hormones, until his testes enlarged enough to produce them on his own. It would do no good to grow his member if he didn’t have the blood volume to maintain an erection of that size. To prepare his body for this, she introduced erythropoietin, encouraging his bone-marrow to produce more red-blood cells, and enlarged his spleen, so as to store the excess until it was needed. Once she'd made these improvements, she could then enlarge his prostate, and the associated vessels.

If it worked, he might make for quite the eager breeder, one whose body could endure multiple strenuous lovemaking sessions, and take quite a bit of punishment without injury. In the meantime, she would need to get him accustomed to the act. They could work up to that.

She wanted to start his training now; to demonstrate the proper techniques on her clit, to have him practice eating her out, or even to suck his little cock until he sprayed his seed all over her tongue.

If only we could spare the water!

For now though, he must drink: drink, and grow.

Still, after so many months of captivity, this feeding session was heavenly enough. Myo’s first feeding had been in his sleep: instinctive, **** suckling, and overall rather chaste, like feeding a baby. This time he was wide awake, and oh so hungry for her.

Surabi felt his little tongue lapping around her nipple, nudging it, flicking it, and curling around it like a straw. His dry lips were sealed over her skin, rehydrating thanks to her. She felt a much greater suction on her sensitive nipples, and her teats rewarded him with lavish sprays of cream. As he drank up her output, he nuzzled closer, pressing his whole body into a tit several times his mass.

She moved her hand to his back, so that she could measure the rhythm of his breathing. He seemed to be the perfect combination of relaxed and excited. His little body went slack, and began to sag into her pillowy breasts, while his male parts were hardening further still, pressing and grinding into her soft skin. Little hands and nimble fingers clutched at her, squeezing, and fondling as much of her breast as they could find.

Oh how grand it felt, to have someone to feed. This was what she was meant for: nourishing, healing, improving. It felt good to have a purpose beyond merely her own survival, and it was even better knowing that she was not alone in this savage hellscape. Myo may not have understood completely, but he was bound to Surabi now, to her people, and to her quest.

If she was to ever find her mission sisters, his help would be most critical. She had much to learn about this continent, its peoples, and its savage little kingdoms.

Big things often have small beginnings. Crystals form best around imperfections.

Surabi sighed contentedly, allowing Myo to continue nursing at her breast, and allowing herself to drift off into much needed sleep.

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"Saved by the Giantess Alchemist" has taken a backseat to Chemical Control Lately, but I do intend to come back to it at some point, once I'm done with my more popular story.