The Saturday Ritual

"Maybe you should stop rewatching that video, Ash."

You growl at that, throwing yourself back on the couch in particularly ill graces. Blah, Isabelle's right. You aren't doing anything to improve your mood by obsessively running that dumb YouTube girl's video over and over. Why does it bother you so much? You don't even think your mother's acting is any good in Face Taker. But there's just something about Queen Bea's uncharitable yet essentially accurate criticism that drives you up the fucking wall. She's got this sort of quality about her, this air that seems to imperiously sniff 'I'm right, and you may now applaud my right-ness'. Blah, whatever. You'll get over it. Face Taker might be ruined for you, though. Which everyone agrees is the greatest tragedy of all.

Isabelle makes a comforting noise, apparently predicting your thoughts as she slips down onto the couch to rub your back. "Well I still like Face Taker." Ugh she is the fucking best. She's even wearing the green and pink Heart Fukks shirt you got her, tying it up at her stomach and pairing it with a pair of white high-waisted shorts and a green scrunchie. She looks like something out of an eighties teen sex comedy and you fucking love it, and goddamn Queen Bea is still distracting you. What a monster.

Jenny cocks an eyebrow at both of you, unable to drum up all that much sympathy for your current plight. "People talk shit online about famous people all the time, Ash. It's the whole point of the Internet. The delivery guys are waiting and the girls are getting antsy; can we get on with the Ritual already?"

Yeah yeah. That's why the three of you gathered here at the Isabelle's family's barn after all.

In the aftermath of your victory over the Mysterious Voice, you became aware of two major problems. Number One, you'd placed your ward of protection over all of your frequent haunts and the areas between them, and that's turned out to be a substantial amount of real estate. It's allowed you to go about your lives without the constant fear of unannounced magical attack, but it also takes an ungodly amount of power to maintain. Far more than your modest herd of milky girls could keep up with. And on a related note Number Two, said herd of milky girls itself. You're still working out the details of getting them, like, Social Security Numbers and stuff? But the girls have more pressing issues. Food, Shelter and Safety you covered quickly, but for these chicks Dick belongs firmly under Basic Needs in Maslow's Hierarchy. Fortunately, Isabelle's study of the Book has provided the solution to both problems: The Saturday Ritual.

You pop up from the couch, giving Isabelle a smooch and Jenny a nod, and then the three of you march regally out of your make-shift office in the back of the barn to address the eagerly gathered Woo Girls.

The Woo Girls. Man, the sight of them never fails to send treacherous shivers straight down to your resolutely monogamous pussy. A month ago they were a herd of perfectly respectable goats, but due to a serendipitous lapse in judgement from Isabelle have been transformed into an outrageous throng of magical porno party girls. It's nothing but curved hips straining at daisy dukes and big wobbling boobs stuffed into halter tops as far as the eye can see, the only indication they're anything other than a particularly oversexed sorority the glittering horns mostly hidden in their hair and the cute little goat tails waggling behind their bubbly bottoms. You suppose that they'd most correctly be called 'fauns' or 'satyresses', but to your ear Woo Girls fits best. Attempts to give them actual names them failed when they couldn't agree on who got to be called Becca, so you started calling them by their haircuts and it's stuck. And right now, they're all waiting on you with as much patience as a gaggle of horny bimbos can muster. Which isn't much.

The girls let out a mix of gasps and cheers when the three of you make your entrance, dwindling to excited giggles as Jenny holds up a hand to quiet them. You let the girls settle for a moment, then nod for her to take the floor. She steps forward: "Alright girls. You all know what time it is." She gives them a moment to buzz in anticipation before continuing on. "So let's decide who's gonna take which role tonight. Which of you have had sex already this week?"

Eight hands shoot up immediately, with three others joining more reluctantly. Isabelle peers down her glasses at the lone hold out, a hippy brunette who desperately tries to not meet her eye. "Seriously, Bangs?" The girl pouts, sticking her tongue out at Isabelle, but she raises her hand never the less. You're not sure who she thought she was fooling, because Bangs is ravenous. You'd have trouble believing she'd made it through the day without a cock in her, never mind a whole week.

Jenny hums thoughtfully, glancing towards Isabelle. "Okay then. Who were the top...three scorers on the GED prep tests?"

Your girlfriend consults her notes. "Pixie, Buzz and Pig Tails." Whoa, Pig Tails? The two punky Woo Girls squealing in delight as they throw their arms around each other you expected, but Peetee? You eye the girl as she bounces up and down in unrestrained glee, her chocolate pig tails and enormous breasts flying everywhere. She's the bustiest of the girls by a good margin, but you would not have put her among the brainiest. Isabelle seems to pick up on your surprise, favoring the overdeveloped Woo Girl with a proud smile. "She's a good student! I just had to figure out how to, you know. Motivate her."

Ah, you get it. "Meaning you told her that if she did well on the tests, she'd get to fuck more."

Isabelle flushes a little, but she keeps her chin raised in defiant price. "Yes."

Jenny clearly wants to keep things moving along. "Who gave the most milk this week?"

Oh, this one's easy. You don't even have to look at your notes. "Ringlets." The other woo girls applaud as the buxom girl with the orange-red curls smiles sheepishly, then looks up at you as if she wants to say something. "What's up?"

Ringlets is a bit of a shy girl. She takes a moment to pluck up her courage, then quietly murmurs in her breathy little coo. "Um, thank you, but I...um, I sort of like the other part of the Ritual best, so, um, can I...?"

"Oh! Oh, of course; whatever you want. Go get it, girl!" Ringlets sinks back, cheeks turning pink with a deeply pleased smile as you consult your chart. "Okaaay~, well, then I guess the spot goes to number two. Congrats, Hime!" The girl with the very long and straight silky black hair gasps in surprised delight, the others cheering her on as she jumps up to join the first three. Hmm, two spots left. "How do you want to award the last two, Jenny?"

Your friend considers it. "Well...girls, any nominations?"

The Woo Girls whisper among themselves for a moment, Braid eventually raising her voice above the din. "I nominate Twin One! She's super nice, and she always eats me out really good!"

The others babble in agreement about how nice and good at oral sex Twin One is, the leggy blonde pulling an identical looking hottie up with her as she stands. "Thanks~! But, um, I don't wanna do it unless Sis can too. Is that okay?"

Jenny glances at the remaining six. "Girls?" They agree, and she gives the ebullient duplicates a thumbs up. "Okay, Twin One and Twin Also One are in. The rest of you, please follow Ash to get set up."

You beckon for the other Woo Girls to follow, the girls already stripping off their tops to reveal heavy, milk-beading breasts. They've clearly skipped relieving themselves today; they're really learning how to show restraint. You lead them to the back of the barn where the wall is lined with a dozen fancy looking couches, designed to allow the girls to relax on their bellies and let their overripe boobs hang free. You had to create a pretty specific Venn Diagram of Agricultural Engineering, Interior Decorating and Fetish Gratification before you found someone who could make you comfortable milking racks intended for actual use rather than just sexplay, but they're worth it. You help the six girls wiggle into their spots and find positions of comfort before you go down the row, strapping on milking cups significantly too large for even their prodigious chests. When you reach Ringlets at the end of the line you give one of her big breasts an affectionate pat, raising a remote control. "You get to pick the movie tonight."

The girl flushes in another smile at that, her thick nipples already starting to throb inside their cups. "Um, Sweet Home Alabama?"

She always wants Sweet Home Alabama. You start the film up, set up the girls' tables of snacks, then call back over your shoulder as you walk away. "Have fun, girls!"

A chorus of thanks echo behind you as you join your two friends and the lucky six, as well as a half-dozen particularly thrilled delivery guys. It takes a lot of food to support twelve very active young women, and you've yet to find a better solution than delivery. And while they won't quite remember it afterwards due to the soft normality-affecting wards on the barn, they're delivering more than just food. Jenny stares bemusedly down at one lanky boy in particular, and it's hard to miss why: He's got a bulge in his pants running nearly halfway down his thigh. "Jesus," Jenny says, shaking her head in disbelief, "This guy must have been here the last three weeks or something. Should we send him back?"

Buzz speaks up. "No don't; he's my boyfriend!"

What, really? You inspect the hopeful looking Woo Girl, considering that. Well, if it was going it be anyone, it would be her. Despite the rough and tumble image her buzzed head, septum ring and full sleeves of naturally-occurring tattoos create, Buzz is such a fucking girly-girl sweetheart. "He's really your boyfriend?"

The girl beams, her arms clutched behind her back as she waggles back and forth excitedly. "Yes~! I mean, we both fuck other people, an' he only sorta knows it, but we totally are!"

Isabelle seems sold, and Jenny still wants to keep the evening moving. She rolls her eyes before taking her place with Isabelle to either side of you. "Ready, then?"

You nod. The three of you take a breath in unison, and then start to intone the ritual. No sooner has the first syllable left your lips than the power seizes hold of your breath, the ancient words pulling themselves out from your very core to swirl around the room. Your incantation slows mid air even as Jenny's speeds up, the former deep thrum combining with the latter trilling song to form a surging chorus with Isabelle's even chant. The words visibly dance through the air as the barn is suffused with power, wrapping the twelve chosen supplicants in an embrace as warm as a mother and as sensual as a lover. The ritual is nowhere close to stopping when the boys begin to show its first effects, trembling as the bulges in their pants begin to grow in shudders and spurts well beyond what their normal erections should ever be able to accomplish. Jenny's concerns are confirmed when Buzz's ersatz boyfriend completely blows through his zipper, his fourth exposure to your coven's powerful fertility magic leaving him with a cock unlikely to ever be imprisoned by mortal pants again. Well, he knew the job was dangerous when he took it.

And he's in luck, because he apparently has a girlfriend who's built with the barnyard in mind. Buzz is the first to throw herself into her lovers arms, the boy's **** kisses melting into a groan as she sinks his horse-like dick into her dripping hot pussy. The others don't wait for the chant to finish either, their clothes left in a shredded pile as they move to enjoy their reward.

The Twins seem mostly preoccupied with making out, almost ignoring the shivering men who hump blissfully away at their padded rears, while Hime seems content to shriek in pleasure as her lover pins her to the ground and thrusts over and over between her lush thighs. Peetee is doing her best to pound her partner straight into the ground, his outmatched hands doing their best to support her unreasonably huge tits as she bounces up and down on his equally unreasonable rod. And Pixie's boy seems **** to drive himself into the promised land of her red-hot cunny, but the impish girl keeps sucking him off before he can plunge into Paradise.

By the time the final intonation of the Ritual has been completed and the three of you have regained control over your breath, all twelve of them are a writhing tangle of squealing girlflesh and pornstar-quality manmeat. The words of power continue to shimmer through the air, much softer now as the ritualistic coupling ensconced in their glow begins to pulse a potent energy of its own. Jenny cackles uproariously at the scene, and while Isabelle has grown more inured to such things she never the less turns away to give you an embarrassed raise of her eyebrows. "Um, let's go check on the others, okay?"

You nod, leaving Jenny to supervise the magical orgy as you and Isabelle follow the aurora of rainbow energy that leads from it all the way back to the milking area. The orgasmic moos and grunts that reach your ears are probably proof enough of the Ritual's success, but even so you peek inside for a visual confirmation. And there they are, all six girls wriggling and groaning as the stream of fuck energy saturates them, their already huge breasts swelling in massive wobbling bursts while teat-like nipples splurt rivers of glittering cream into suddenly much better fitting suction cups. They coo and babble about how big they are and how nice they feel, temporarily reduced to little more than overgrown milk tanks until they squirt the ocean of magic that will fuel your powers for the week and their over-productive breasts shrink back to size. They are to a one slack jawed and drooling, running their hands in worshipful strokes over udders growing big and fat enough to hang nearly to the ground. Except Ringlets, you notice. She just quietly lays in her spot, very relaxed, carefully chewing on a baby carrot as she watches Sweet Home Alabama and politely gushes milk and cum.

You and Isabelle watch for a few long minutes, your girlfriend biting her lip as she squeezing your hand tighter and tighter. When the Woo Girl's breasts actually grow big enough to rest on the ground and they erupt in a moaning sound of bovine triumph she turns to you, beet red. "Um, want to go for a walk?"

Yes. Yes you do.