The Woo Girls, New in Town and Down to Clown

You really need to take control of this situation. Magic is fun and all, but now you're suddenly in charge of twelve fully grown demihumans without jobs or social security numbers or anything who presumably will need to eat, and sleep, and occasionally go to the bathroom, and so it's time to buckle down and get a serious plan for how you're going to handle this.

The newly born fauns, however, are not making it easy.

Jenny is still unsuccessfully trying to get the larger group to stop dancing and focus, but they keep grabbing her hands and trying to get her to join in. Isabelle has even less luck trying to get her phone back, the dismayed looking girl immediately becoming tangled up in the impromptu photo session. And you have your own troubles, as the red-head and her friend broke their passionate kiss only to gasp and wiggle over to you.

"Omigod, look at her tits!" the girl with the raven pixie cut hair exclaims, reaching out to squish the more than substantial rack of her make-out buddy, "She's got bigger boobies than you!"

"Omigod, bigger than you, too!" The freckled beauty gives her olive-skinned friend's equally heavy breasts a squeeze in return, and before you know it both of them have sided up beside you to jiggle their prodigious boobs against your objectively larger pair. "How come you've got such big ones? Are you the Boobie Queen?!"

The punky goat girl gasps at that. "Omigod, is she?! Give me bigger ones; I want to be the biggest!"

That loud entreaty for a mammary boon is what finally breaks through the reverie of the rest of the woo girls, and you suddenly find yourself surrounded by a gaggle of squealing horned bimbos, each trying to shove their wobbling breasts into your face and plead for a breast expanding miracle. God, you have so many fantasies that start out exactly like this, but right now all you want is for them to be quiet. "Girls, will you-"

Their babbling completely drowns out your attempt to create some order.

"Girls, if you'd please just-"

If anything, they're getting louder.

"GIRLS" The word bursts from your chest to fill the barn, the rafters and windows shaking with your intense need for a moment of silence. And silence is what you get, the fauns immediately falling quiet. Fuck, did you over do it? The girls are all staring at you wide-eyed, more than one trying to soothe herself by suckling on a finger. Ugh, maybe you did over do it. You sigh, as much in annoyance with yourself as anything else, taking a moment to run your fingers through your hair and gather your thoughts before speaking again. "Okay. Sorry about that. Now. Are you all listening?"

The woo girls nod in unison. Okay, good start.

"Right. So I'm Ash, and that's Jenny and that's Isabelle."--you indicate your friends in turn, each of them waving awkwardly--"We're...responsible for you? I mean, it's our job to take care of you." You trail off when you notice one of the blonde twins earnestly raising her hand. "Uh, yes?"

She blinks up at you, lightly frowning. "I'm hungry!"

The other girls murmur in assent. Looks like they did not take much convincing on the whole "being taken care of" thing. "Uh, right. I guess hay is out of the question now." The faces the fauns pull answers that question. "Isabelle, do we have any options for food?"

Isabelle thinks about it, eventually tapping on her newly regained phone. "There isn't enough in the house for twelve people, that's for sure. I'll order something through DoorDash, I guess?"

The girls cheer at that, bouncing up and down in celebration. Well, that's one thing down. "What about bathrooms and stuff?"

"We've got an in-law suite behind the barn that my Nana lived in; it's been empty since she passed away. That should cover it."

"Sleeping arrangements?"

Isabelle has to think a bit longer on that one as she clicks through the food order on her phone. "Um, we could raid my parent's Burning Man gear? They've got pretty much all the glamping stuff there is; if it makes the desert livable it should be more than fine for the barn. They won't use it again for a year, so that should give us time to think of a more permanent solution."

"Speaking of your parents. Is there any chance they won't notice that they have twelve new party girl tenets?"

"Uh, no."

"Well, that's a problem magic caused that magic can solve. But I'm going to need some milk for that." You turn put your hands to your hips, glancing around at the assembled fauns. "Any volunteers?" The freckled redhead steps forward, biting her plump lower lip as she hefts one huge breasts, eyes heavily lidded and nipple already starting to bead ivory as she offers herself to you. Oh Jesus. "No, um, we don't have to do it like that, we can just-"

One of the blonde twins cuts you off, draping her arms around the redhead with a grin. "Aw, it's easy though! Here, lemme show you~" She gives the freckled faun a peck on the cheek before dropping down, the recipient's pleased giggle turning into a low moan as the blonde sucks her throbbing teat into her mouth. The twin takes two big swallows, the boob she's latched onto apparently overflowing with bounty as she traces her hands down her partner's soft tummy and suckles contentedly. Then she abruptly releases the nipple with a 'pop!', gives you a wink, and then throws herself forward to wrap her arms around your neck and catch your lips in a hungry kiss.

You barely register the otherworldly flavor of the magical milk as it passes from her mouth to yours. All you can focus on is the soft ecstasy of her plush lips, the way her tongue teasingly flicks against yours. On how she drags a hand up your side to try and cup your breast in her utterly outmatched hand, opting instead to catch your suddenly aching nipple between her clever fingers and give you a little tweak. For a moment, you can only groan into her mouth and kiss her back, your needy body acting on instinct. New Ash isn't a stranger to this sort of thing, it's true, but from your perspective this is the first time anyone has ever touched you like this, and you hadn't quite realized how **** you were starting to get. It would be so nice to just devour this all-too willing girl, to pull her hand to your dripping pussy and just see where things went. It would be so easy, but...no, you've got more control than this. You're Strict Voice Ash, not Bimbo Coo Ash. Fucking keep it together.

With supreme effort you manage to clench your teeth, carefully extracting yourself from the blonde faun even as she tries to crane her head closer to take one last kiss. She pouts as you finally free yourself from her grasp, only to immediately giggle in delight as her twin curls around her to try and savor the lingering taste of You. God, these girls are...you're gonna have to be careful. You're entirely aware of the fact that you've flushed beet red and your nipples are entirely on display, throbbing furiously through the thin material of your sports bra, and even the look of devilish amusement that Jenny sports can't annoy you enough to snuff out your lingering arousal. Isabelle is bright pink too, trying to act like she's fully engrossed in her phone, but you have a suspicion that some of the flashes that cross your eyes during your sudden make-out session might have had less to do with your pleasure and more to do with her sneaking a quick picture or two.

Ugh, stay focused. You've got work to do.

An hour or so later you've put the final touch on your ward for the barn, the massive runic breast flaring a final shimmer of rainbow before it fades away from view. That took a lot more time and power than you thought it would, but this is way more intricate than any of the sigils you've made before. This is no simple marker of territory, like the wards you put on the school. This time you incorporated the magic you used to encourage students to walk away from Ms. Hayden and Mr. York's classroom romp, tweaked and empowered with the magic of ownership you placed upon the Bad Starbucks. Now anyone else who wanders near the barn or even thinks about it won't consider anything out of place.

You're not entirely sure how it's going to work in practice, actually. Will Isabelle's parents immediate accept that they're the new landlords to a goat girl sorority? Will they just not see them at all? Will they immediately forget about them whenever they look away? You honestly don't know. You only know that it will work, with the sort of bedrock certainty that gives you a probably unearned comfort that it will also work out for the best.

At least the girls seem to be settled in. With all of the Vargas-Holt Burning Man gear hauled into the barn, it's actually quite cozy in here. You'd been a bit worried about the clothing issue, but the fauns didn't have a problem with the idea of clothes so much that they took issue with wearing clothes that didn't fit them properly. Which, you know, fair. Isabelle's body is fucking perfect, and you wouldn't trade it out for anyone else's in the world, but it's simply a fact that clothes made for her supple, willowy frame aren't going to be great matches for the boggling bimbo curves of the woo girls. Eventually, and with the promise of a shopping spree in their near future for a sweetener, you sold them on some oversized pajamas and left it at that. It strikes you that the place has a very slumber party vibe now, the fauns in their sleep shirts huddled around the portable camping TV as they devour episode after episode of The Bachelor. The only thing missing is food, and you're starting to get kinda hungry yourself. "Hey, Isabelle, your order went through, right?"

Isabelle nods distractedly, the girl having found herself caught up alongside the fauns in the entrancing grasp of trash TV. "Yeah, it should have probably gotten here by now."

Jenny frowns, glancing over the assembled goat girls. "Hey, are we missing someone?"

"Yeah, Pixie Cut."--You'd briefly tried giving the girls names, but they all wanted to be called 'Becca' so you've just been using their hair styles for the moment--"She went to the bathroom, like..." Isabelle glances down at her phone, eyebrows raising when she sees the time, "Uh, fifteen minutes ago?"

The three of you share a concerned glance, then quickly move to slip out of the barn as the rest of the fauns continue on to the next episode. You don't have to go far to find the missing girl or the missing food: the food is currently resting on the hood of the old Volvo that is parked in Isabelle's driveway, and the olive-skinned girl is currently bouncing on top of the deliriously happy deliveryman that brought said food. The expression on Pixie Cut's face as pumps atop the man strikes you as that of a zealot having finally found their true calling, the faun's gorgeous face screwing up in wordless rapture as her drooling pussy is filled with achingly hard cock over and over again.

Whatever. You're tired and you're hungry; Pixie Cut can have her fun but you are going to eat. You reach over to snag the large order of food off of the delivery car, taking a moment to catch the man's eye as he thrusts madly into the grunting, writhing goat girl. "This counts as your tip, got it?" You can't be sure if he understood you or not, but he does take hold of Pixie Cut's hips and begin humping into the squealing girl with renewed vigor, which as far as you're concerned is legally binding.

Isabelle's bright red again as the three of you start back towards the barn. "I think, um, we're going to have to order the girls a bunch of dildos."

Jenny nods. "Or a lot more delivery guys."

Jesus magic is complicated.