Waking Up and Serious Talk

Once more, you awaken with a scream and sit up in panic, only to find yourself in a sparsely furnished bedroom. In fact, it is the same one you were brought to two when you passed out the first time. Only this time, the sun is already setting over the trees, illuminating the room with a bright orange light, and no witch sitting in the wooden chair watching over you. You are alone, something you are grateful for as the horrifyingly realistic dream is still fresh in your mind. Especially the last scenes were so terrifyingly realistic that you are drenched in cold sweat, so you sit up and take several deep breaths to calm your nerves.

More than last time, you felt that the six monster girls approached you in the strange chapel were dangerous. They looked like human women, but they felt more like monsters, stunningly beautiful, but inhuman and cruel. Despite that, you could understand them, even felt like it was perfectly normal how they acted. Why should monster girls as strong and beautiful as them not dominate and be worshipped? It seemed only proper to you during the dream.

What you find even more frightening is how unfazed you were about the scenes where you were one of them. It felt good to receive all the attention, the orgies, the servitude from all kinds of monster girls… Having your own dirty and smelly parts worshipped, your smelly feet, sweaty armpits, sticky honey pot and throbbing futa rod… This is not what a human should feel. Yet you did, and it felt good. Then you remember the one scene that was different from all the others, the human settlement. You feel even more guilty when you remember how disgusted you were when among the human crowd, but you cannot help it. The dream crowd was so obnoxious, so smelly, so vulgar, it seems impossible to see them as the same as your kind.

And then… the second scene that remains perfectly clear in your mind, only this one is not so much frightening, but rather intense: The human woman, the only one you were not disgusted by, these bright green, piercing eyes filled with terror and despair, how she seemed to look straight into your eyes despite being a figure you dreamed up, and her cry for help. You are sure it was directed at you; she was begging you for help, and despite knowing it was just a dream, you can’t shake the feeling that she might really be needing your help.

You stand up and walk towards the washing bowl that is still standing on the table next to the bed. A few splashes of water wake you up and chase away the scarier images from your dreams. You then step towards the window and look outside into the gardens where one of the witches and the hulking, greenish-brown golem are tending to rows of lush herb bushes. The smell of manure rises into your nose, but it does not bother you, instead reminding you of your home village. Memories of your childhood and your family fill your mind and chase away the anxiety and after a few minutes, you are almost calm again.

As you step away from the window back into the room, you notice two different things. The first is how sticky and sweaty your skin is. Apparently, you must have sweated quite a lot while dreaming, so your body and your clothes are wet with sweat, and you reek. Not as much as a monster girl, but you can clearly smell your own sweat. A few splashes of water from the washing bowl help with the stickiness, but the smell remains, even when you dry yourself with your old shirt and then put on the shirt the witches have left for you, a cotton shirt in a lovely forest green colour. You briefly wonder about the material, considering you have seen them wearing only leather and latex, but then shrug and put it on anyways. Smell aside, it feels good to wear a fresh shirt after sleeping in your old, sweaty one for who knows how long.

Unfortunately, you don’t see a fresh pair of boots, so you reluctantly take your old boots to the bed and inspect them. Someone removed the dirt and polished the leather, at least slightly, but they still smell like worn leather boots. You hold them in your hands for a while, the smell rising into your nostrils, while you wonder about your reactions to the two different smells. The smell of manure, while equally bad, if not worse than the smell of your sweaty, worn boots, does not bother you the slightest bit. Contrarily, it is a smell you enjoy as it causes you to have positive flashbacks of your childhood. Why is it that the smell of feet is perceived as something bad, evil and wrong while the smell of literal cow shit is something positive?

You shake your head and chase away these distracting thoughts. Monster girls are the evil ones, they seek to turn humans into slaves, so their smell is evil. Wondering why their stink is bad won’t help you stop their advances. Then your stomach growls loudly and reminds you how hungry you are. Not just hungry but starved. Luckily, it should be almost time for dinner, so you put on the worn, slightly smelly boots, step out of the room and walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see if you can get something to eat soon, all thoughts of your sweaty clothes, increasingly rank body odour and smelly feet forgotten.

Right as you come down the stairs, one of the witches enters the farmstead from the garden. Her green, witchy face with the large nose and the thick, mocking lips is moist with sweat and her boots are covered in a thick layer of dirt and manure. She notices you and, with a surprised noise, hugs you and pulls you in for a kiss. From her prettier green skin, but mostly her smaller size and her aggressive kissing, you recognise her as Zaimela, the overly horny hybrid witch.

Her kiss is almost as lewd and sloppy as the ones fro- she pulls away and says: “Good morning, sleepyhead! We were all waiting for you to wake up, you slept for soooo long! Mother and the others were like, really worried! They are waiting for you in the living-room, come on!” She does not give you a chance to answer but pulls you directly into the living-room. You let it happen, only putting up a little bit of resistance, as her kiss has caused you to remember the events from earlier, at least earlier in your memories. Events that you are not too happy about, to say the least.

Indeed, the other witches are gathered in the living-room, dining room, room with the large kettle and magic circle, whatever. It is also the room you were transformed in and where you had sex with one of the witches and your companion. While it was quite a pleasurable experience, you cannot help but feel tricked and betrayed. You were not yourself during most of it, like you were under the influence of strong wine, and you cannot even remember most of it. Plus, there is the larger scale, carefully spoken, of your mutation, a scale you did not ask for. All these thoughts contribute to your uneasiness as you step into the room.

True to what Zaimela told you, Edmortia and Tamaria greet you with a look of worry on their green faces. The coven mother even stands up when she sees you and approaches you with a look of concern, then says: “Anastasya! You are awake! We were quite worried about you. How are you feeling?” You can tell she is not just talking about how you are feeling right now, but also how you feel about what happened after you drank the transforming potion. “Right now? Hungry. And still a bit dozy.” The witch nods and answers: “Understandable. We will have dinner soon. But you know that is not what I mean.”

You sigh and nod, your stomach growling in anticipation upon hearing the word ‘dinner’. But before that, it is time to get serious, uncomfortable as it might be. “I don’t know yet. I am not feeling anything anymore, but at the time… First, how long did I sleep?” The coven mother sits down again and watches you closely, then answers: “Two days. Two full days. This is also the reason why we were so worried. We were watching over you for most of the time, only leaving you alone when we were sure you were going to be fine. Such an overreaction is not at all what we expected.”

“Expected?” You cannot believe it. “I for sure did not expect to sleep for an entire two days! I believe that should cause some worry from anyone!” Your voice is getting louder as you speak so by the end, you are almost shouting. “Please, my dear, calm down”, the witch replies with a concerned look. “We were monitoring you very carefully. Tamaria is quite experienced with the transformation process as she has gone through it multiple times herself. The grogginess and confusion are normal reactions to it, and so is the arousal and the need to have sex. Even passing out from exhaustion and sleeping for a long time is common. After all, it is quite a violent transformation and a whole load of new sensations.” You are still very much agitated but try to calm down seeing their obvious concern.

After a deep breath, you reply, a bit less furious: “Violent transformation and load of new sensations don’t quite cover it. I thought I might lose myself back then! I have never felt so horny and so **** to do something. This is not at all what I anticipated and while it was pleasurable, I do think I deserved to be warned at the very least! This happened to my body, not one of yours!”

The witch now looks a bit upset, something you note with satisfaction, but it is the other one, Tamaria, who answers. “There are two reasons why we did not say anything about it. The first one, admittedly, was that we did not think you would have the courage to drink it if we were to tell you what would happen. From what we observed, we thought you would just reject our efforts. The second reason is that we did not anticipate you would overreact so much. Like I said, feeling horny is a natural reaction, but not as much as you did.”

Well, their first reason sounds somewhat believable if you are honest with yourself. But what do they mean with ‘overreaction’? Her response has somehow served to make you even more confused. Edmortia continues as you take a seat as well, now outwardly calm, but still visibly uncomfortable. “Overreaction is about right. We know exactly how the potion is supposed to work. You should feel hot, you should get horny, you should need to fuck, cum a lot and then pass out. But your reaction was a lot stronger than anything we have seen. You fucked for an entire six hours and tired out not just Tamaria and Vemaho, but Zaimela as well. We even had to use Nakna to help exhaust your lust frenzy as you just wouldn’t calm down. You flooded the entire room with your cum as well, it was so much we had to use magic to clean the room. Pretty impressive for a prude little human girl, I must say.”

You blush up fiercely, both from the compliment and from causing so much trouble to your hosts, and swallow once. “I lasted for- six hours?” You stare at the witches, half expecting them to be joking, but they remain serious. After coughing once from embarrassment, you continue. “And I suppose the overgrowth is also part of the ‘overreaction’? Or was that also something you decided out of ‘goodwill’ for me?” This time, the witches look a bit more genuinely hurt. “We truly thought drinking the potion would do you good”, the coven mother says, “despite what you might think. Although I struggle to understand just where the problem lies.” Of course, nothing wrong with such a massive change, everything’s fine.

“But yes, the ‘overgrowth’, as you called it, was also due to the overreaction. Surprising and unexpected, but after you were finished with your fuck frenzy and started to pass out, your cock and balls deflated and shrunk back to the exact size they should have”, the other witch continues. “So, there is no reason to be angry anymore, dear. You still got exactly what you asked for, you successfully became the futa you wanted to be, and you even got to be the centre of an orgy of horny monster girls. How many human girls can say that about themselves?” She eyes your crotch region with a hungry look and licks her lips, causing you to blush even more.

“Wait”, you say to cover up your embarrassment. “It- it we- it became shorter again? So you di- I mean, you…” “Did not deceive you”, Tamaria shuts up your hasty stuttering. “At least not much. We did decide we would keep quiet about how horny you would be right after transforming. But I believe you won’t complain about getting to fuck four monster girls into oblivion, would you?” You leave her remark uncommented. “But in case you still distrust us, you could always check for yourself. Just press the green spot right on top of your mound and think of your cock and it will grow, this time almost immediately and without making you lose yourself in lust again. That is, unless you want to. We would be more than up to it”, she continues and looks at you, blatant lust in her dark brown eyes.

“I think I’ll pass… for the-“ you are interrupted by a loud growl from your stomach, indicating how famished you are. Both witches suppress a laugh, then the coven mother stands up and claps her hands. “Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes”, she says. “I’ll go and tell Orellanna to hurry up.” Both you and the other witch stand up as well, but before any of you can leave the room, a cloud of cheesy-sweet smell hits your nose and a green, sweaty alraune storms in and throws her naked body at you for a big hug. “Mistress”, she shouts in her bubbly, cheerful voice while you try to struggle against her hug as your face is being pressed against her sweaty breasts. “I was so worried! Please don’t do that again, please don’t just pass out like you did! The witches were telling me you were fine, but I was so afraid you would leave me! And after we’ve just fucked, after I’ve just tasted your beautiful cock! Please don’t, I’ve wanted to do so much more with you and you- “

By this point, she is sobbing, but she is also talking so much and so fast that your head is starting to ache, not to mention how tight she is squeezing you against her boobs. You hit her on the back, softly first, then with more insistence, until she realizes and lets you go. “All right, all right, calm down, be a bit more careful”, you scold her, a bit upset, but also touched since she really seemed to care about you. “I am fine, just starved. At least I think I am.” Tamaria steps behind you and pats you on the shoulder, then says: “We should talk about that after dinner”, to which your stomach growls again. Both you and Vemaho break out into laughter and turn to leave the room, human and stink-obsessed monster girl, one obsessed with the other’s feet and smell, and the other just hungry and very confused.

Since you are now facing away from the witches, you cannot see the look they exchange. Both grin for a moment as they silently celebrate that you are wearing the cotton shirt that will retain smells better, and how you didn’t complain about getting pushed into Vemahos sweaty cleavage and getting a full nose of her sweet body odour, especially the foul, pheromone-laden smell from underneath her breasts. Small successes, but it is coming together.