CHAPTER 8
CELESTE
I float in that glowy place between sleep and waking, where the sun seems to surround me. When I come back into awareness, I’m still floating—in warm water held in a pool carved from pale green stone.
The carved sand over us has openings in three directions, offering a view of swaying river reeds, clusters of white flowers, and Zairion Prime’s sun setting behind the glittering emerald water of the river. The last wall leads back into the rest of the house.
My breasts are the largest they’ve ever been, but the water makes them feel weightless. I can’t see my stomach, but it no longer feels so tight. Given the size of my breasts, I think I’ve processed most of what was in it.
Gentle hands comb herbal-smelling conditioner through my hair, cleaning away the sweat and cum and sticky golden syrup.
I should feel weirder about finding out it comes from Razul’s cock.
But it just seems… right.
The idea of lying beneath him, sucking lazily all day long…
A throb pangs through my overfull breasts, and I whimper.
Razul laughs, then his deep voice rumbles and clicks behind me.
Kisses trail down my cheek, and he lifts one of my breasts, gently pulling into his mouth.
I whimper as the pressure begins to release. My body is still exhausted and oversensitive from who-knows-how-many orgasms, so while Razul’s sucking makes heat throb between my legs, I stay in that floating, relaxed place.
I could stay like this for hours… and I may well do so; I’ve totally lost my grip on the passage of time.
Razul alternates breasts until they’re a manageable size again.
I’m left empty, with a satisfying ache.
He gently pulls me out of the pool and wraps me in a towel. My skin dries quickly—too quickly, cracking slightly in the dry desert air.
Relief comes a moment later as Razul smooths a lotion over me. It soothes the dryness, soaking deep and forming a protective layer on top.
I don’t even realize how sore my sinuses are until Razul sprays something under my nose, and the mist relieves the burning instantly.
I sneeze.
He laughs warmly and strokes my cheek, and I lean happily into his palm.
Razul scoops me up and carries me through the house, eventually arriving at a circular chamber.
Most of the floor is dominated by a recess lined with tufted pillows in woven fabric dyed rich jewel tones.
Tiny alcoves in the curved wall hold dozens of candles, and Razul uses a tarnished brass lighter on each in turn.
Soon, wavering golden light surrounds us.
He settles down into the pillows, arranging them under me so that I can recline against his chest.
Razul says something, and I just nuzzle into the rumble of his voice.
Then there’s two gentle taps behind my ear.
“Celeste. We need to talk for a moment. Take your time.”
My body stiffens as my brain wakes up again. I still feel foggy.
Razul hands me a bowl of green citrus, and I slowly eat, clarity returning.
I take stock of everything that’s happened and my cheeks flare with heat. Oh. Oh no. I’ve been horribly inappropriate, haven’t I? I grabbed his cock and then I—and then he—
Razul’s hands grip my face, soothing me with their warmth. “Are you alright, Celeste? That was… a lot.”
My gaze falls. You’re a lot, Celeste. Too much. You blew it.
“Hey.” He lifts my chin. “Hey. What was that?”
“What was what?”
“Your eyes just…”
“My eyes didn’t do anything. I’m happy. Very happy. Everything’s fine.”
“Celeste.” His stern voice cuts to my core.
I tremble, bracing for a reprimand.
He just rubs gently behind my ears.
I try to keep my guard up. I try to be rational about this. I fail.
A soft sigh escapes me as my eyes slide closed.
“You poor little thing,” he murmurs. “Who did this to you?”
A wave of emotion rises in my chest. “Don’t send me away. Please don’t send me away.”
Razul’s grip closes around me, holding me tight to his chest. “I won’t send you anywhere you don’t want to be.”
“I want to be here,” I say, clinging to his neck. “I want to be here.”
“Then here you’ll stay. Here you’ll stay.” He kisses my forehead. “I just wanted to be sure you weren’t too… overwhelmed earlier.”
“It was perfect,” I breathe, nails digging into his skin. “Is that bad?”
His laugh rumbles beneath me. “You liked my cock that much?”
“Yes,” I answer too quickly, too earnestly.
Razul just smiles and nuzzles his cheek against mine. “Good. I would like to fill you with it many, many times…”
Heat shudders down my spine. “Oh… Does that mean… Will I have…”
His hand slides over my waist, fingers digging into my new plushness. “Take your time, Celeste. We have all the time in the world.”
“I want you to breed me,” I blurt. “B-but I don’t know if I want to—is it eggs? Does that even work? I’m sorry I—I don’t—”
His finger presses against my lips. “How about I talk, and you just listen?”
I nod into his neck.
“Good girl. I can feel how badly your body wants to be bred.” His voice drops to a low purr that sends me shivering.
“And I’m happy to do it. I would like to do it for a very long time.
Bearing my children, should you choose to do so, would be very taxing.
I would have to keep my cock out of you for a while.
And that’s just not…” His hands knead into my hips.
“…something I’m willing to do for quite some time.
But you are more than welcome to beg me to fill you with offspring… ”
I whimper, head swimming with heat, dizzy. I’ve never been this turned on this fast.
“And here I thought I took advantage of you.” He chuckles against my ear. “Maybe you took advantage of me?”
I wriggle and moan. “Your cock tastes really good…”
He cups my breast. “And it’s fed you so well.”
I finally take stock of my body: the swell of my stomach, the width of my hips. Everything is larger, softer. But strangely, I feel less clumsy—more grounded, more present, less like a wisp about to drift away on the wind—as if this is how my body was always meant to be.
“I’m sorry about the other fruit, I—”
“Shh.” His finger presses against my lips, then slides over my tongue.
Heat shimmers through my mind.
“No words about that,” Razul commands.
I nod, reflexively sucking on his finger.
His rich laugh falls around me. “Oh, you love my fingers in your mouth.”
I blush, suddenly self-conscious, and hesitate.
Razul slides his finger deeper, scrambling my thoughts. My lashes flutter as my tongue works under his touch.
“It doesn’t matter who made you feel anything less than perfect,” Razul croons against my ear. “I will completely and totally erase them from your mind. There will only be room for thoughts of me. Do you understand?”
A tingling warmth spreads through my rib cage, making me feel lighter, and I nod around his finger.
“I will always taste your food,” he purrs. “I will always test the water in your bath. I will fluff every pillow, brush your hair for hours. I will stop at nothing to ensure you are as happy as you can possibly be.”
My brow furrows.
His thumb presses against that tension, rubbing it away. “Now, what’s this pouting for, my little desert rose?”
I wilt, and he gently removes his finger so I can speak.
“I don’t deserve it.” Tears well in my eyes.
Razul suddenly grabs my chin with enough roughness to send that heat lacing back through my mind. “Who says you get to decide that? Who says you get to decide anything ever again?”
I whimper.
“You are mine, Celeste. You deserve what I say you deserve. If I say you deserve the world, then it is so. If I say you deserve every pleasure and dream of your heart, then it is so. If I say you deserve to be impossible to please, then it is so.”
An old, brittle shell cracks deep in my heart. My eyes well with tears, and I resist them.
Razul rubs my back. “Cry all you need, sweet girl. Do it for me. Fall apart. Let it all go.”
Every sniffle I’ve ever choked back, every tear I’ve ever hidden from an ICSS caseworker pours out of me in one flood. Razul doesn’t cringe back from my wails or flinch at my snot.
He just holds me.
My breath finally steadies. I feel raw, but… hopeful.
Razul reaches a blanket toward my messy face.
I shrink back. “Oh, no, you don’t have to—”
Razul clicks his tongue and taps behind his ear, turning off his translator.
“Wait, Razul—”
But he just ignores me, gripping the back of my neck firmly as I try to squirm away.
When the soft linen hits my cheek, I relent, relaxing into Razul’s grip as he wipes my face clean.
He holds the blanket in front of my face so I can blow my nose, then tosses it aside before running his fingers through my hair.
I remain determined to speak with him more. I appreciate the gesture, but surely he didn’t literally mean what he said. There have to be parameters. Limits. Things I should be aware of so I don’t do something over the unspoken line.
There’s always a line.
I reach for his ear, and Razul gently but firmly grabs my arm and puts it back at my side. He grips my shoulders, massaging, and I melt at the touch.
That gets the better of me for a moment, but I remain strong in my purpose. Surely, if we talk it through, we can come up with a set of rules that will guarantee Razul remains happy with me being here.
While he’s still watching my hands, I focus on drafting these rules.
He really doesn’t have to cut my fruit; I can handle that. Of course, the counter is as tall as I am… maybe if we make a smaller table, and—
Razul’s hands drop to my hips next.
Oh…
His fingers knead through the muscles, releasing the lingering soreness from my transformation.
But no, I can’t be this easy. I muster my focus, reaching for Razul’s ear while his hands are occupied. But he digs his fingers in deeper, and the pleasure makes my arms go limp.
Somehow I end up sprawled across Razul’s chest as he lies on his back, methodically massaging each and every muscle in my body.
When his thumbs find my feet, that perfect spot in the center of my arch, and I let out a loud moan.
He laughs quietly, knowing his victory is secure as I surrender, drifting into bliss.