The Gown

This is a work of adult fiction and all situations and concepts are entirely imaginary. No actual persons or creatures were harmed in the making of this story.

The following contains scenes of both a sexual and violent nature. Some of the goings-on may be disturbing, even to consenting adults. Scenes may contain any or all of the following: unbirthing, lactation, and breast/belly expansion. Proceed at your own risk and peril.

But if you _do_ make it through, please let me know what you think. I always appreciate feedback to [e-mail] on my work, good or bad. Just please, if you're going to flame, make sure to spell check it first. -:)

The Gown

By Rochndil

Evelyn had a problem. While at times it seemed silly or trivial, it still brought her to tears, when she was alone, and nobody was watching. Finally, she decided to do something about it.

Although well-off financially, and without any health problems, Evelyn was still a victim; her husband had more than a wandering eye. He couldn't keep it in his pants, with other women. Oh, he did his duties as a husband every time he was home, with about as much passion as he did his taxes. Punctual, perfect, and never more often than strictly necessary.

She wasn't unattractive, and as she paused to check herself in the hall mirror, she did a quick inventory of her fine features. Today she was wearing a dove grey silk blouse, with a matching grey tweed skirt. A small pillbox hat perched on her large head, balancing precariously between her massive ears. Though she stood on two sturdy legs, she was definitely all elephant, and her soft grey hide still gleamed with the blush of youth.

In addition to her sweeping ears, she had a modest grey trunk, which didn't quite reach her waist when at rest, and small, very white, tusks. Her eyes were wise and grey, when they weren't all red and puffy, and her figure was trim and athletic. That, of course, was the problem. Jonathan, as one of his few vices, was irresistibly attracted to women of size. "Spit it out, Evelyn Bartleby," she remonstrated herself, "he chases anything in a skirt with tits the size of Nigeria." Hefting her own breasts in her thick three-fingered hands, she sighed. "We'll just have to see what we can do for you ladies, to turn his eye our way again, and keep him home, where he belongs."

She knew, of course, that his frequent business trips were just a sham. Of course, he did do business then, in the import/export trade there was always someone to meet, far away, but he could as easily handle that part on the phone, or over the Internet. No, his real reason for traveling was to meet with slutty exotic women. She had the proof in her personal files, pictures taken by the investigator she'd hired. Picture after picture, almost enough to make her sick. She'd thought of suing for divorce, but she still loved him, despite all his infidelities, and was about to give up hope, when a chance remark from her grandmother came to mind.

It seems that, years ago, there was another man in the family, who had suffered a similar affliction. Great-uncle Hubert had a bizarre and inexplicable attraction to warthogs. After much unrest, the wisest of the family elders (all women, of course) sent the unlucky wife far away to visit a great and holy shrine. There, blessed by the mother, she was able to find the solution to her problem, and his.

Evelyn would soon be making that same pilgrimage herself. She already had her ticket for a flight into the interior, and had drawn the best map she could from all that was remembered of the previous journey. Unfortunately the great-aunt who mad the trek had long since gone on ahead to the morning country, but the elders knew, and remembered, as was their calling.

Satisfied that her appearance was no better or worse than usual, she took a final moment to smooth down her clothes, then picked up her shoulder-bag and walked out the door.

***

The flight was uneventful, though the tiny plane had a few near-misses with savanna storms along the way. Stepping out at the tiny regional airstrip, not even properly an airport, she spent a few anxious moments before she spotted her guide. Standing beside a land rover that surely had been in service for at least a century, the older woman seemed almost as grizzled, rusty, and battle scarred as her vehicle.

Walking quickly over, she extended her hand in greeting, keeping her trunk politely neutral. The woman, Aveela, if she recalled her name correctly, gave a hearty laugh, and a bruising handshake, making no attempt to keep her own trunk from sniffing her closely.

"I'll take yer money, fancy lady, and take ye where ye'll go, but if you're no more than ye look, as most city women be, you'll not last a week out there alone. Sure you want to go through with this, miss?" Though her words were a bit harsh, Aveela seemed genuinely concerned for her well- being, and Evelyn did her best not to take offense.

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she replied, "I know I may not look like much to you, Aveela, but I'm fighting for the most important thing in my life, and I'll survive, or perish, as is the Eldest's will." Both women, at the mention of that name, made a complex gesture, hands and trunks curling into a spiral shape.

Aveela's eyebrows rose a bit at that, and she huffed, "By all that lives and breathes, it's been a long time since I've heard that name from city-folk like yerself, no offense. Keep Her near ye, and ye may yet come back from the bush." Evelyn didn't bother correcting the woman, for the bush itself was not her final destination.

"First thing we've got to do is get you in some decent clothes," Aveela went on, "what've you got in that bag of yours?"

Evelyn pulled out the clothes she had bought for the trip, tough khaki military-issue shorts, with a matching short-sleeved shirt, both provided with many pockets. Her greatest treasure, however, was well hidden, close to her heart.

Grunting, Aveela grudgingly agreed that those would do, and showed her a place to change. She also recommended that Evelyn remove all her jewelry and non-essential personal effects, and store them at the strip, since they would be safest that way.

Before she packed all her civilian gear into the locker, Evelyn made sure to take out the money Aveela had asked for, in cash. The older woman seemed a bit surprised to have the whole sum up front, but simply took it, and nodded.

Pulling down the vehicle's rear gate, Aveela showed her two small backpacks, each filled with dried rations and basic survival gear. She made sure that Evelyn knew what was in hers, and where, and in what quantities, before she put them away again, and headed to the cab.

They climbed into the creaky old vehicle, smelling strongly of old grease and older dust, but when Aveela turned the switch (there didn't seem to be a key), the engine coughed to life without much preamble. "Lucifer may not look like much, but we've seen a lot of miles together, and he always comes through. Never let yourself be fooled by appearances, not out here. It could get ya dead."

Evelyn nodded, and they were off, bouncing away down the dun-colored road.

For three days they traveled west, never seeing another vehicle, or much of anything else for that matter. Every day was spent lecturing, Aveela endlessly describing plants, animals, and the lay of the land, all of which could aid in survival, or, as her host liked to put it, "Get ya dead."

On the third evening, Aveela made Evelyn gather the food for supper, and cook it herself. It ended up tasteless and a bit burned, but neither of them went hungry. At the end of the first week, Aveela opened a rusty metal footlocker, and took out two heavy grey revolvers. After she helped Evelyn with the holster and ammo belt, the unfamiliar weight settled around her hips, and shooting lessons were added to the routine. Though never the shot that Aveela was, Evelyn became at least competent, and knew how to clean and care for the ugly brute. Aveela, pithy as always, cautioned her. "Don't let the gun go to yer head. That's the biggest mistake folks make. It's just a tool, nothing more. Keep yer wits about you, and hope you'll never need it at all. But if ye do, don't screw around, when it's life or death, shoot for the heart, and don't think twice about it."

Three days later, they had finally traveled as far as the vehicle could go. Shouldering their packs, they set off, bearing now a little north of east, and climbing the slowly rising ground. That evening, as they made camp, a shadowy movement at the edge of the firelight caught Evelyn's attention. Investigating herself, since Aveela was off collecting more water, Evelyn was quickly wrenched from curiosity to terror as the small shadow quickly resolved itself into a black mamba, a deadly poisonous snake!

She wasn't quite sure how much later it was, when a mechanical clicking sound worked its way into her brain, and a gentle hand was laid upon her shoulder.

"That's enough now Evelyn," said Aveela quietly, "It's quite a bit past hurting anyone."

Evelyn sat down with a sudden thump, her body shaking, but managed not to drop the still smoking gun. Aveela walked over and examined what was left of the snake with a practiced eye. "Not bad, for city-folk. You got 'im twice, once in the head, and once in the neck, before he fell."

Aveela smiled down at her, still sitting numbly, the warm pistol held carefully in her hands. "Don't worry about the shakes, it's always tough the first time. It never gets easy, but life or death is a pretty easy choice to make, as you've found."

As Aveela cheerfully busied herself at the fire, leaving her in peace to recover, Evelyn got to her feet, and looked again at the snake, which didn't look so terrifying anymore. Beginning to feel better, she checked her pistol, emptied her brasses, and reloaded.

As she turned around, Aveela told her, "Now that yer feeling better, make sure your knife's sharp. Since you've caught dinner, you can clean it too."

Later that night shortly, before they lay down to sleep, Evelyn had to admit that mamba wasn't bad, even though it tasted nothing like chicken. She saved just a bit of the tail to remember, packing it carefully away.

The evening of the following day, under lowering skies, they crested a ridge, and looked down on the ruins. A city might have stood there, or a great temple, or even a marketplace, but time's busy hands had thrown it all down, leaving only the sense of pattern remaining among the weathered stones.

"Not many folks make it here," said Aveela, "Some don't care, some forget, some never knew. But out here, we have long memories. More than one night I have spent here, listening to the stories of the stones." After this unusually long speech, Aveela fell silent once more, leading to a shoulder-high wall, still standing, and marked with the smoke of many fires.

As Evelyn sat down on a convenient stone, rubbing her sore feet, Aveela showed her where some wood was stored, and where a small spring ran. "Be careful out here, there's more'n you and me in these wastes, and most would just as soon eat you as spit in yer eye. I'll spend tonight, then head out, if yer still sure."

Evelyn nodded, and made camp. There wasn't really that much to do, the weather being mild, and they cooked and ate their meal without much need for speech. "Words seem less important out here," thought Evelyn, "everything seems less important and small beneath that endless sky."

While they prepared for sleep, the winds picked up, whistling and chattering through the stones. "Listen carefully," said Aveela, "and you may learn a lot. Not to the wind, but the stones themselves. They've been here long and long, and still remember."

Evelyn slept fitfully, dreaming strange dreams, and woke stiff and sore in the morning. As she rose, Aveela was closing her pack, and getting ready to leave.

"You're sure you're ready for this?" asked the older woman, "I can take you back with me right now."

"I'm sure, Aveela," replied Evelyn, "but thank you for getting me here. I would never have made it this far without your help. I'll be here waiting in two weeks."

"Very well," replied Aveela, "May you find what you seek, and not what seeks ye, and may the Great Mother keep ye near her heart." Both bowed at the name, and made the spiral. Then Aveela set off, back the way she had come, her long strides carrying her quickly out of sight.

Sighing, Evelyn said softly to herself, "OK girl, it's just you and me and me for a while, we're truly cut off."

The day dawned bright and clear, and it wasn't long before the heat began to get to Evelyn. She had been collecting deadwood for a bonfire, and her clothes were soaked with sweat. Laughing a bit to herself, Evelyn muttered, "It's not like there's anybody to see," and stripped off her top. It felt strange at first, but as the slight breeze brought cooling relief, she shrugged and got back to work.

In addition to a prodigious amount of firewood, Evelyn had also been lucky enough to locate some edible fruits and tubers, quite enough to keep her fed for a day or two. In the evening, she slowly roasted her gleanings at the edge of her fire, amazed at how good they smelled, and how good she felt, even after all that hard work.

The smell of her cooking apparently reached more noses than her own, and more than a few times she caught sight of small scavengers skulking through the stones. Taking some scraps and badly-cooked remains, she flung them out beyond the firelight, and that appeared to satisfy the lurkers. A feeling of presence, however, did not diminish with their departure, but grew as the night wore on.

Growing more paranoid by the moment, Evelyn turned her back to the fire, and quietly drew her pistol, quickly scanning through the darkness, searching for anything out of place. When a quiet rustle sounded to her left, Evelyn spun about, her finger on the trigger, only to view what was undoubtedly the oldest woman she had ever seen. Quickly holstering her weapon, Evelyn stammered an apology, "Grandmother, I am sorry if I frightened you. Please, be welcome to my fire, one traveler to another." As she bowed, Evelyn examined the woman closely, startled to discover that she wore little more than an intricate collection of necklaces and beads, and a sarong that appeared to be woven of grasses.

"I give you my name," she began, in a voice worn quiet by the years, "it is Zioa. What is yours, daughter?"

Evelyn replied quickly, "Evelyn, of the Evelphain clan. I am honored to meet one as wise as you." She bowed again, and only belatedly realized that she had never put her top back on! Resisting the urge to hide herself, she instead stepped across the fire circle to clear a seat for the elder. Perhaps her own state on undress would help her guest feel at home.

Though leaning on a gnarled and carven staff, Zioa still moved with surprising ease, and settled herself with an almost musical jingling crash. Her lined and weathered face gave away little, but her eyes, though clouded with age, seemed to miss nothing.

Evelyn sat down nearby, and asked, "Can I offer you anything, Zioa? I have some food and cold water, the warmth of my fire, and my own company to share." The ritual fell easily from her lips, though Evelyn had never offered guest-right before in such a situation.

"Is that roast gordah root I've been smelling? I could do with a bite or two. When you get to be my age, digging about in the ground is too much work." As she finished speaking, she smacked her lips rather pointedly.

Evelyn grinned, and carefully pulled a tuber from the coals with two sticks, dunking it quickly in water to clean off the ashes, and cool it enough to eat. She carefully sliced the squat white root in two, and pulled out the fibrous center, before handing it to Zioa on a thin wooden plate.

Taking the food eagerly, Zioa wasted no time, and stuffed the entirety of one half right into her mouth, chewing noisily. Evelyn carefully tried not to notice the juice dripping down her chin and the loud mumbling and smacking that ensued.

As the second half also disappeared, Evelyn asked, "Would you like more, Grandmother Zioa?"

Spitting small bits of toasted tuber as she spoke vehemently around her mouthful, Zioa interjected, "Grandmother, grandmother! I ain't yer granny, little girl, I...say, is that a pomart yer tryin' to hide your unsuckled tits behind?"

Evelyn blushed deeply, and could only nod, handing over the red-skinned fruit. "I had one earlier," she began, but broke off as her guest was apparently far too absorbed with eating to pay any attention to her words.

Now liberally smeared about her face and fingers with sticky red juice, Zioa appeared to be, for the moment, rather happy. As she licked at her fingers, Evelyn handed her a bowl of fresh water to wash it all down.

Zioa drank greedily, again spilling more than a little of it upon herself. What caused Evelyn to gasp in amazement, though was what the water revealed as it washed away the dust. Everywhere upon the old woman's skin, hidden beneath the dust, were symbols, patterns, and marks of power!

"You're a seer," Evelyn exclaimed, amazed.

"Of course I am," Zioa snapped, "What else would I be doing out here at the edge of the world?" Continuing, she muttered, "Silly youngsters, always pointing out the obvious."

The old woman sat there in silence for a time, long enough that Evelyn thought she might have fallen asleep. Suddenly she came back to life, and said. "Come sit here before me, child, and I will read your ears. I have not forgotten your hospitality or your kindness."

Evelyn nodded silently, kneeled between the old seeress and the fire, and spread out her large ears. The fire shone through the thin skin, making the tangle of veins and wrinkles dance in the quiet air.

Zioa's thin old hands were softer than they looked, and moved about with the assurance borne of decades-long practice. As her fingers traced their way about her sensitive skin, and she mumbled under her breath, Evelyn had to bite her tongue to stay still...it tickled!

Finally, she was done, and Zioa spoke, slowly. "Very interesting, your life-line is. Great challenges await you, but also great rewards, if you are strong enough. Love you have, and give. You will find, and lose, and find again your heart's desire. And your destiny..." Here she paused, considering, "your destiny may be truly great, bringing new hope to our people, or you may simply live, as we all do."

"My, my, my," Zioa continued, "interesting indeed. You sure don't look it! You should eat more, girlie, you're all skin-and-bones. But then," she cackled, "who am I to talk, ol' bag-o-bones that I am!"

Evelyn smiled hesitantly as Zioa, apparently overcome with her own humor, wheezed and muttered to herself, until a dry cough wracked her frame. Standing up quickly, Evelyn tried to ease the spasms, which passed eventually.

Zioa smiled up at her, and patted her arm. "Thank you dearie," and after a pause, "it's time for me to go now."

Evelyn helped Zioa to her feet and passed over her walking staff. "Will you be OK out here, all by yourself? You can stay here for the night if you like."

Zioa replied, "No can do, I have an appointment to keep with the moon, and she hates to be kept waiting. Perhaps we shall meet again, youngster. Be ye well."

Evelyn nodded, and replied, "I as well, but I was happy for your company this night. May the Mother hold you always near her heart."

Bowing, Evelyn missed the grin that quickly chased itself across Zioa's face, before she replied, "I'm sure She will, dearie, I'm sure she will. And Her blessing be with thee and thine. Farewell." The last spoken in the old speech was difficult for Evelyn to follow, for it followed none of the formulas she knew, despite flowing so easily from Zioa's tongue.

Evelyn stood for some time watching the hunched old figure slowly hobble out into the night, even long after she had passed from sight, before finally banking her fire and retiring to rest. Her dreams were strange and confusing, but kept their own secrets once she awoke.

Evelyn awoke feeling hungry but refreshed, and as the sun rose into a endlessly blue, cloudless sky, she began her final preparations. Tonight was the full of the moon, and the most auspicious one for what she attempted.

The day was spent gathering more wood, fruits, some roots, and a great lump of bright red clay. She carefully arranged her gleanings, and that night built a huge fire.

Following a ritual as old as the stones around her, she removed all of her clothing and reverently opened the tiny pouch she had worn between her breasts the entire journey. Its contents seemed unworthy of such care, but she knew their real value. A tiny vial, a small black stone, and the much-folded map she had so laboriously drawn.

The stone was a lodestone, worn glassy-smooth with age and handling. At least 5 generations of her family had carried it, and she was honored to bear it now. The vial, however, still colored her cheeks to think about. Powdered blood, it was, and she could still remember her great-grandmother lecturing her, "It must be your own woman's blood, nothing less will do." The lecture went on from there, when and how to collect it, how and where to dry it, and finally what was to be done with the dark brown powder.

Taking out a small wooden bowl, she dribbled a little spring water in it, and added a bit of the clay. In a second, she mixed water and ground charcoal from her fire. And in a third, she pulped the bright blue rind of a peculiarly bitter fruit, never eaten by choice, with a rock. In each bowl she spat, adding her own substance, and to the red clay she added the contents of the vial, mixing it slowly with her finger.

As she worked, she sang an old wordless song, or perhaps one that had simply been sung so long that the words had lost their shape, becoming round and smooth like well-loved beads. All the children were taught the song, though few knew what it was for. According to the elders, the song had been given to the people by the First One, untold years ago.

With the wind tumbling randomly through her hair, and the firelight licking all about her naked body, Evelyn felt very far from her safe little world, but what she sought could not be found there, even with all the money there was. Taking a strangely knotted mass of bright red roots from her pile, she flung them into the fire. Quickly they began to smolder and spark, releasing a thick grey smoke. Taking a deep breath of the acrid vapor, Evelyn tried not to cough as she sang, dipping her left finger into the black, and her right into the red. Slowly she drew upon her body, the thick pigment smearing across her smooth grey skin. Symbols of the sun and the moon, of fire and earth, water and wind, and most importantly, the great spiral upon her flat belly, symbol of the Mother.

Finally, she was ready, and sat cross-legged before the fire. Holding the lodestone tight between her palms, she spoke slowly, uncertain in the old tongue, "Mother-goddess, Protector, Wise One, I call to thee, your true daughter, Evelyn. Hear my plea, and let me come to thee along the twisted path." Done with the invocation, Evelyn lifted the third bowl with her trunk, and drank the bitter contents. She barely managed not to gag, it was even worse than she had expected! Shortly, however, she began to feel light-headed, and then she stepped free of her body, somehow even more naked than before.

While the bonfire and the sheltering wall seemed much the same, the spirit world was more than a little unnerving. Flames danced along the ancient walls, memories of the past, but strangest of all was the utter silence. No animal sounds came out of the moonless night, no winds stirred the grasses to rustling, and everything was perfectly still.

Far away, to the east and north, she felt, more than saw, the light of another fire. Making her way carefully through the ruins, she headed out through the silent hills.

The way was hard, and more than once she had to backtrack when the ground grew too rough. There was little light, for though the stars shone, the moon was hidden, and the night never changed into day. She couldn't tell how long she had been struggling up the rough slope, how many times the sharp rocks and thorns had torn her tender flesh, but she was determined, and kept on.

After an eternity struggling through the darkness, she finally reached a wide ledge, and stood before the fire. This fire was white and blue, and even green here and there, not red and orange as hers had been, so that she knew it was nothing of the mortal world. All was quiet, the fire made no sound, and there was no wind. Stepping forward hesitantly, she saw that there was a cave beyond the fire, but there was no way to go around, and no way to go over.

Some moments she hesitated there, staring at the flames, before steeling her resolve. "I can do it, I must," she thought to herself. Taking one hard step, and then another, she walked into the fire. The pain was intense, and all-encompassing, making the pain of her many small injuries vanish in the blaze of suffering. Another step, and another, blind and deaf, feeling only agony, she went forward, and then was through! The relief was so great, she fell to her knees, sobbing, only to realize that not only was she alive, but that her skin was unmarked, save by small white scars from the thorns and rocks.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked up, only to lay her head down once more. Where the space had been empty before, now the object of her quest stood calmly before her. Towering over the shaking woman, the First One was truly awe-inspiring. Standing on two legs like Evelyn, but nearly twice her height, the Eldest was covered, not in the wrinkled grey skin of her children, but in thick dark hair, completely covering her voluptuous body, and sporting curved ivory tusks even longer than her trunk. A dense garland of fresh flowers wrapped about her head, but her body, barring its natural hair, was bare.

Evelyn, keeping her eyes down, and trying to hide her trembling, spoke haltingly in the old tongue, "O Mother, I thank thee for granting me audience. I have a boon to ask of you, and I am prepared to meet the price you set."

Great hearty laughter washed over Evelyn at that, making the flames behind her flicker, and echoing strangely in the silent world. A voice began, slowly, that could only be felt, and not heard. "Look up child, look upon me."

Evelyn slowly raised her head, and looked into the Mother's eyes. A moment passed, and more, in that timeless still place. Finally, Evelyn blinked, and could move once more. It seemed to her that they had been talking, for a long time, but the details of the conversation were strangely muddled. Belatedly, she realized that the Eldest was standing over her, and offering her a helping hand. Placing her much smaller hand in the great dark one, she was smoothly and easily pulled to her feet.

"Walk with me my child," the great voice boomed, "we need to speak more, and this place is not suited."

Evelyn let herself be led into the great cave mouth, amazed by the solidity of the warm arm draped across her shoulders, fur tickling at her ears. Some twenty steps into the mountain, the passage opened up into a broad gallery, set here and there with brightly burning flames seeming to come from the rock itself. A deep pool of water, clear and still, lay to the back, and all about, walls, floor, ceiling, all were painted. Scenes of battle, worship, and more than a few of courtship that made Evelyn blush silently. The style was primitive, but the simple images were viscerally powerful and evocative.

Guided to a pile of soft grasses covered by woven rugs, Evelyn gratefully sat, while her host dropped down beside her with far more jiggling of flesh than she expected of a goddess. The Mother sat silently for a moment, studying her, before speaking. "I know what you seek, daughter-of-my-daughter, and it is a just thing. But there will be a price, and you must agree to it before I tell you what it is. If you decline, you will leave this place, never to return. What is your choice?"

Evelyn bowed her head; afraid, but resolute. "O Mother, I will pay any price you ask, just to have my husband back, to wander nevermore."

"It is good," replied the Eldest. "First, you must bathe in my spring, and wash the stink of the mortal world from the body of your spirit."

Evelyn nodded mutely, and rose; two short steps brought her to the spring, and with one more she was standing knee-deep. The water was frighteningly cold, burning as badly as the fire had, but taking faith, she dropped into the deepest water, and as soon as the waters closed over her head, the pain was gone. Feeling refreshed and renewed, she stepped once more from the waters, still quiet despite her passage through them, and was curiously unsurprised to find herself dry once more.

Nodding slowly, the Eldest spoke again, "That was well done. Bravery you have, and that is good. Now come and kneel before me."

Evelyn did as she was bid, and sat still, with her head bowed. She wasn't afraid now, feeling more that she was waiting, nervous with anticipation.

"Look into my eyes, daughter," began the Eldest, "and give yourself to me, body and soul."

Evelyn looked up into those bottomless black eyes, and replied quietly, "I am already yours, we all are, and always have been. Body and soul, I give myself, all that I have, to thee, Great One."

"Crawl to me then, be my babe, and lay your head upon the softness of my breast." Done speaking, the Mother slowly lay upon her side, and stroked her huge breast. Somehow it seemed to become more real, more vital, than anything else in the world to Evelyn. She crawled awkwardly over on all fours, nearly squeaking in surprise as she was lifted with no more effort than a kitten, and held close by warm strong arms.

The strange, musky smell of the First was all about her, and though alien, also extremely comforting. Cradled safe and warm against her breast, Evelyn began to feel drowsy, and the slow, heavy heartbeat, thumping in her ear, helped her relax even more.

Letting the much smaller female slip a bit lower, the Eldest gently laid Evelyn's trunk in the vast cleavage between Her breasts, pressing Her furry nipple between her teeth. Speaking softly, She said, "Take of it, my daughter, drink from my fount, and become my child."

Evelyn, though a bit clumsy at first, began to nurse, and soon remembered, and suckled with vigor. It took a very long time to pull all the milk from the Mother's breasts, but Evelyn persevered; the taste was divine.

After she was done, Evelyn wanted nothing more than to sleep, the warmth, comfort, and a full belly all conspiring against her, but her Eldest had other things in mind. It started as a gentle but insistent tickling between her legs, but quickly grew into a powerfully intrusive sensation, almost like... Her eyes flew open, and she saw the Mother's furry trunk slowly writhing its way up into her sex!

"Be still, and do not struggle child," She said, Her mouth unaffected by the actions of Her trunk, which pressed further and further into Evelyn. Finally, Evelyn could feel her innermost gates being slowly teased open, as the trunk squirmed into her womb. The feeling was incredible, sexual and exciting, but she was stretched so wide, she was afraid she would split apart!

Before she could think too much about that, Evelyn felt herself lifted bodily, the trunk impaling her belly moving her about like a puppet. "I can see the passion," began the Mother as she held Evelyn before her, "as well as the fear in your eyes. Remember, you gave yourself to me. I call that due now."

So saying, She lay on Her back, spreading Her thick furry legs wide apart. Though she was embarrassed, Evelyn was also amazed at the size of Her sex, truly one fit for the mother of a people. Evelyn's reverie was broken quickly, however, as something began to happen. A tremendous shudder rolled through the Mother, the wave clearly visible traveling across Her furry belly, and Her long dark lips sagged open, revealing the cavernous inner surfaces of Her sex.

Evelyn was lowered to just above that gaping portal, and then told, "Slide your trunk into me, as I have into you, daughter. Now." Doing as she was bid, Evelyn carefully pressed her trunk through the lips of the Eldest, sliding deeper and deeper into Her warm recesses, never encountering resistance. Finally, she could reach no farther, and then the contractions began.

Where previously the slick passage had been open and easy, now it closed around her trunk tightly, and she could feel herself being drawn in farther, the great dark lips creeping up toward her head. The First One was also pushing Evelyn with Her own trunk, the two forces, pulling and pushing, working in cycle, push, pull, push, pull!

Before long, Evelyn's face was all but pressed between the Mother's lips, Her thick scent flooding her senses. Speaking once more, the Eldest whispered, "Close your eyes, my child, all shall be well." Evelyn did so, and shortly felt the slick rubbery flesh climb up her face, and engulf her head.

From then on, it was a fairly rapid process, more and more of her sliding into the Mother, and though she could not breathe, she also found that she didn't have the need. Finally, exhausted, she drifted off to sleep soon after the Mother's trunk slowly slithered out of her own sex, and the final contractions left her curled up, warm and safe, in her Mother's belly.

Panting slightly, the Mother rested her hands on her belly, now greatly swollen with her child. She sat up, her belly forcing her legs apart as it rolled onto the warm rugs. Evelyn rolled over, curling up tighter, and the Mother smiled again.

"Fear not, child of my child, now of mine. Soon you will be on your journey again, and I have not forgotten your boon. Few enough still have the knowledge, or the will, to seek me out that I should send ye away empty." She sighed, "But for now, listen well while ye dream, and learn..."

* * *

An indeterminate time passed, in that timeless place, and finally the time was come for Evelyn to be born into the world again. The Eldest chose the place with care, as she always had, and shortly went into labor. Great writhing contractions rolled slowly across her swollen belly, forcing the babe down and out, and not very much later her water broke with a great rush. Evelyn came smoothly back into the world, wrapped in her birth caul, and slid out onto the ground, steaming gently in the half-light.

Rising once more to her feet, her now empty belly hanging a bit slackly upon her, the Eldest smiled down upon her child, and leaned over to kiss her, once between her legs, once upon each of her breasts, once upon her brow, and one last time on the lips.

Turning away, she stepped into the dawn, whispering, "Remember, and carry my memory, and my love, with you back to the mortal world. Wake now, my child..." and she was gone.

Evelyn slowly awakened, feeling like she had been stampeded upon by the entire nation of wildebeest, who had then used her head as a game token. Moaning softly, she spat out dried pieces of fruit rind, and more than a few scavenging ants. She sat up slowly, pushing aside her blanket, when suddenly she remembered!

Looking down suddenly, she realized it was no blanket she held, but her own birth caul, wrapped about her cord, and still damp. With the sacred scent still tickling her nose, she kneeled there, in the dust, toward the east, and gave her thanks, over and over, to the Mother.

Carefully, reverently, she folded her gifts up tightly, and stowed them safely in her pack. Apparently falling from her hands sometime during the night, she found her lodestone, and stowed that away also. Her greatest shock came, though, when she went to the spring to refill her water jug, and saw her reflection in the small pool.

Her body was changed, she looked both older, and more womanly. Most amazingly, all the designs she had painted, all the wounds and scratches she had suffered on her vision quest, and even the marks of the silent flames, were etched on her skin. Sacred designs, patterns, and symbols, strange jagged lines, and even the leaping marks of fire shone from her glossy skin, looking like tattoos, but she knew would be far more permanent. And both upon her belly, and upon her brow, were the sacred spiral, the most holy symbol of the Mother.

Staring down into the still waters, she reached out to her reflection, in awe of the stranger staring back with her own eyes. While far away and bemused at her new appearance, a distant "Haloo" nearly scared her out of her patterned skin. Standing up and turning to the west, she was very surprised to see Aveela come striding through the maze of ancient stones.

As the guide drew closer, Evelyn asked her, "Did you forget something? I thought you weren't coming back for two weeks."

Aveela stopped still as a stone, and dropping to one knee, mumbled softly, "Lady, it has been two weeks I've been gone..."

Evelyn sat down with a thump, surprising herself as some of her newly enhanced attributes bounced about more than she was used to. "Two weeks, it can't be...it was but a single night..."

Aveela nodded slowly, "Time moves differently in Her realm, annointed lady," and here she peered up at Evelyn, "you have journeyed to Her realm, and back, and bear Her mark. If I do not presume too much, might I suggest you dress?"

Evelyn started, and realized, blushing, that she was still naked from the ritual, and all that had followed. After what she had endured, however, she no longer felt embarrassed of her own body, and was more comfortable with herself than she could ever remember.

Smiling warmly, Evelyn stepped over to Aveela, and gently pulled her back to her feet. "Do not kneel to me, my friend. There is only one to whom we need kneel, and she is always with us. I give you her blessing," and she kissed the older woman's brow, "as she gave it to me, for all who remember her are blessed."

Evelyn led the way back to her campsite, and could now tell, from the changes, that time had indeed passed, though she had neither eaten of her rations, or burned any more wood than she had used in her bonfire. Pulling on her once-comfortable clothes with some difficulty, she packed up her belongings, and tidied the place; a holy one, even if only for her.

"Let's go," said Evelyn, as she headed back to the west. "Oh," she continued after a moment, "I don't think I'll be needing this any more." She handed the second pistol to Aveela, who stowed it away without a word.

Time passed as the two trekked back toward the world, and Aveela had only one question to ask, "What was She like?" Smiling, Evelyn tried to answer, saying that She was at once warm, like the sunrise, and fierce, like the lightning, and immense, like the mountain. Finally, she gave up, and simply said, "She is the Mother, and is all things. You know Her already, never fear. I can see just a glimmer of her face hiding in your eyes, in unguarded moments." This seemed to please and discomfit Aveela at the same time, and she didn't ask again.

Finally, they returned to the tiny airstrip, and Evelyn, dressed (if a bit tightly) in her fancy clothes, gave Aveela a great hug, and thanked her profusely for all the help she had been to her. The older woman blushed a bit at this, and even tried to give back part of the money she had been paid, but Evelyn would have none of that.

"Don't be silly, my friend," Evelyn said, "you did everything you promised, and got me safely there and back. You earned that, fairly. May the Mother be with you, and keep you safe until you are called home." Giving the ancient formula came naturally to Evelyn, and she also noticed that she now spoke the old tongue smoothly, like a native. They each made the spiral, embraced one last time, and then Evelyn boarded the tiny plane, heading for her home.

* * *

The return trip was strangely rapid, after the long outbound journey. All too quickly, she found herself standing before her own door, oddly disappointed at how bland and dull the surroundings were. Her house looked just like all the other houses on her street. The street looked just like the next one, and then next, seemingly going on forever. Without a doubt, Evelyn had returned a changed woman. Fumbling a bit with her keys, Evelyn was somewhat dismayed to discover that she couldn't see her hands if she stood too close to the door, her chest now got in the way! Hopefully it would also get in her husband's way, in a more enjoyable sense. She entered the slightly stuffy house, filled with air several weeks stale. Opening the windows helped a lot, and she set about storing away her belongings.

Her clothes and jewelry all had their places, but she found herself at a bit of a loss with the travel-worn backpack, which Aveela had insisted she keep, and her hiking gear. Eventually, she took out each item, examining them fondly, and then packed them carefully away at the back of her closet. Three objects, however, received special treatment, and remained at the foot of her bed when all else had been put away. First was the tiny pouch that still bore her useless map, an empty vial, and the ancient lodestone. That was placed into her jewelry box, until she could find a safer place. Next, still joined, were the fruits of all her labor.

Gifts from the Eldest, her birth caul and cord, lay shimmering gently, folded on the quilt. Touching them carefully, stroking her fingers down the smooth membrane, an idea came to her, and she knew what to do.

Though she had never been a seamstress, her mother had taught her how to sew, and she quickly put those skills to use. Working on the broad kitchen table, she quickly discovered that much of the cord could be easily raveled, yielding very strong, yet slightly elastic threads, while the core remained thick and rope-like. The glistening silver material of the caul itself, however, was both supple, and resistant. Through trial and error, she discovered that only certain parts of it could be cut, and eventually the puzzling pile of pieces remaining resolved itself into a long robe, softer and finer than any silk she had ever touched.

Both proud and amazed at her creation, Evelyn unselfconsciously stripped right there in the kitchen, and tried it on! The soft material slithered over her gentle curves, and settled into place, fitting her like a second skin. Just slightly translucent, and occasionally iridescent, the material gave strange life to the markings on her skin, the symbols almost seeming to glow, and the flame-scars to dance. Open down the front, though wrapped to the left side, and belted securely with the remains of her cord, the gown flowed unbroken from her shoulders to just above the floor, caressing and revealing every curve of her body.

Posing before the hall mirror, Evelyn turned slowly in a circle, entranced, and said, "If this doesn't get his attention, he's probably already dead." Running her hands slowly down her body, she was surprised when, as they passed across her breasts, a warm feeling of fullness overwhelmed her. Repeating the gesture, the feeling came again, and stronger this time! Breathing heavily now, she placed her hands upon her breasts a third time, and was astounded to seem them swell larger, while she watched, and hang just a bit lower on her chest, still seamlessly covered by the gown, tented slightly now over her dark nipples.

"By the Mother!" she began, and then in a quieter tone, "thank you Mother, for your great gift. I will use it as wisely as I am able." When she finished, just a hint of warm fragrance brushed across her, like a caress, and she felt again the warmth and happiness of her Mother about her.

Smiling happily, she danced up the stairs in blissful anticipation of Jonathan's return.

* * *

Two long days passed before her husband's return date, and Evelyn did her best to stay busy. With a renewed sense of purpose and energy, she cleaned her house, top to bottom, and did her best to infuse it with some sense of character. The bland sameness of its interior, while not transformed, was much improved by the addition of various traditional artworks and sculptures. In retrospect, she realized that every one contained at least one image of the First, but she felt better for being watched over.

She also found it necessary to significantly amend her wardrobe, because few of her old clothes still fit her, especially in her chest. At least double their former size, her breasts were now full and heavy, unmistakably womanly, and she bore their weight proudly. Although a bit surprised at how easily she now wore revealing clothes, Evelyn felt proud and happy with the way she looked, and made sure everyone looking at her knew it too! The strangest thing was, nobody around her, with very few exceptions, seemed to notice all the marks upon her skin. Even when she commented about them directly to her friends, they only stared blankly at her, and quickly changed the subject. Though a bit troubled over this, Evelyn let it go for now, because Jonathan was coming home!

Evelyn spent the day of his return preparing. She cooked his favorite meal, cleaned and dusted the house, and took great pains with her own appearance. At last, Jonathan walked in from the garage. At first, he didn't seem to notice anything different, either in her, or in the house, giving her the perfectly proper greeting hug and peck on the cheek, before heading upstairs to change his clothes. Half-way to the staircase, however, he turned to her with puzzlement, and asked, "Did you cut your hair or something dear? You look different somehow."

Evelyn took a deep breath and smiled innocently, her deep cleavage clearly visible in the light sun-dress she was wearing, partially unbuttoned. "I've been busy with the house, dearest, maybe that's what you noticed."

Nodding slowly, Jonathan mumbled to himself, "That must be it," and trudged up to the bedroom.

Evelyn turned away, smothering a giggle with her hand, and returned to the kitchen to set the table. "Foolish male," she thought, "he has no idea how much I've changed. He'll learn!"

Dinner was excellent, and all through the meal Evelyn could feel his eyes glued to her cleavage. Mercilessly, she even "accidentally" popped one of the buttons off her dress during dessert, and made sure to lean far over while she served his. The bug-eyed look she got in return was well worth the future effort of repair.

The meal done, she came up behind his chair, and gently rubbed his shoulders, making sure that her breasts brushed softly against the back of his head. "I'm sure you're tired after your trip, dear. Do you want to stay up, or head straight to bed..?"

His strong trunk quickly wrapped about her waist, and then dropped lower, to caress her rump, pressing her firmly to him. "Oh," he replied, "I think bed is a very good idea." Rising from his chair, he swept her off her feet and into his arms, carrying her bodily up the stairs. Though his hands were occupied, his trunk busily parted the top of her dress, baring the black lace brassiere barely restraining her full breasts.

Once in the bedroom, she was tossed a bit gracelessly onto the bed while he tore clumsily at his clothes. Apparently the various bouncings induced by her passage through gravity had their desired effect, because he gave up on his clothes, and jumped atop her, still half dressed.

Wrestling together in passion, they kissed, and embraced, and stroked each others' bodies sensuously. Finally, Evelyn rose from the bed, still barely wearing her underthings, and said, "You get undressed and good and ready, and I'll be right back after I slip into something a little more comfortable." She slowly walked around the bathroom door, her short tail waving in counterpoint behind her.

Unceremoniously dropping her clothes on the floor, Evelyn shimmied into the beautiful gown, and whispered another prayer of thanks to the Mother as she posed for a moment before the mirror. Returning to the bedroom, she made certain to dim the lights slightly, and move slowly, and with grace. About to ask if he liked what he saw, Evelyn smiled instead, to see that her performance was definitely effective, as the bedsheets quickly rose into a circus tent around the star attraction. Brushing her hands down its length, she whispered, "Somebody's glad to be home, or will be."

Jonathan groaned slightly at her touch, and arched his back, his eyes all but closed. Evelyn pulled the sheet aside, and stroked her full breasts, encased in their opalescent silky cups, all along his throbbing shaft, up, down, and then up again, prisoning him between then, all while he panted below her. She climbed into the bed, and stroked her entire body along his, the silky gown sliding against their skin, sensuously. Sitting on his belly, trapping his shaft below her, she raised his hands to her breasts, guiding him to heft, cup, and stroke them. Both were surprised, however, when small wet stains suddenly flowered through the cups of her gown, as she felt her milk let down!

Wasting no time, she quickly untied the belt of her gown and bared her full breasts, leaning forward to press one into his mouth. As he first kissed her nipple, and then began to nibble and suck, she wrapped his trunk about her other breast, pressing that nipple into the "fingers" at its end. Leaning down upon him, and not incidentally smothering his face with her breasts, she raised her rump, and slowly slid the gown out from between then, until she could let it slither from her shoulders to lie pooled upon the bed.

Rocking back and forth, she stroked her sex against his, long and slow, each time feeling him bite and squeeze convulsively at her nipple as she neared the head. Finally, she scooted far enough forward, and took him into herself, slowly letting the hard length slide into her eager depths.They both moaned as he penetrated her, his somewhat muffled by the mass of her breasts. Then they passed far from the realm of speech, and there was left only feel, and touch, and passionate twining. Riding high upon him, she came hard, knees and hips locked tight about his, as her internal muscles squeezed his rigid member. While she shook and trembled above him, he came as well, and she could feel his warm seed flow into her, a precious gift indeed.

Later, they lay quietly, side by side, and just before they dropped off to sleep, Evelyn poked him slyly, and whispered, "Remember dear, it's your turn to do the dishes."

* * *

The next two months were truly happy ones for Evelyn. She and Jonathan were closer than they had ever been, and couldn't get enough of each other, in bed or out of it. Every day Evelyn offered her thanks to the Mother, and every night had her husband to share her bed, and her body. She even had a small bright hope, for after that first night, she had skipped, not once but twice, and she was thrilled at even the small possibility that she might be carrying their child. Though she asked the Mother of this, She remained frustratingly silent, though still a warm and comforting presence in her life otherwise.

All her happiness came to an end, one night, when she had a dream. The Mother called to her, in the spirit realm, and Evelyn found herself once more at Her feet. She bowed her her head, and offered her thanks every way she knew.

The Eldest, however, spoke with some urgency, "Your gratitude is more comfort to me than you can imagine, my daughter, but there is much that you must see, and consider. Come, and look." Leading Evelyn to a small shadowed pool, she kneeled, and blew softly upon the still waters. When the ripples had run their course, Evelyn saw, not her own reflection, but a scene as through a window, of her husband Jonathan.

First he was in his office, doing paperwork, and making calls. Then something seemed to catch his eye, outside the window, and in a stumbling rush he threw on his jacket and ran out the door, saying something to his assistant on the way. Racing down the street, he turned into a local tavern, and then boldly walked up to someone. Though the woman was unknown to her, Evelyn immediately knew what had attracted his attention; she was immense. There was no other word to describe her breasts, which projected before her like some balloonist's fantasy.

Jonathan apparently was doing his best to charm her with charisma ("or bedazzle her with bullshit," thought Evelyn), even though she could not hear what was said, and apparently was buying her quite a few drinks. The woman, a hippo, took all his posturings in stride, and did her best to keep him wrapped up tight, battering him occasionally with her breasts, and giggling behind her hand. What Jonathan apparently did not notice, but Evelyn did, was the coldly calculating look in her eyes as she sized up his tailored suit and gold jewelry.

Eventually the scene shifted, and Evelyn watched in disgust while the two (or four, thought Evelyn) of them squirmed, naked, in a scruffy little motel room downtown. The scene shifted again, and again, apparently jumping forward in time, and finally, mercifully, went dark. Evelyn sat rigid, frozen, until a great tear rolled down her trunk, to splash into the pool, shattering all reflections into bright shards.

As the sobs tore their way out of Evelyn, she felt the mother pick her up, holding and comforting her, until at last she quieted. When She spoke, Evelyn felt as well as heard her voice echoing through their bodies. "Now you know, and the truth is often a hard bitter swallow, but know this too. He is not evil, and truly loves you. Weakness he has, and a flaw, but he is still a good man. Now you must return, and decide what to do. I am always with you, daughter, and always will be..."

With those final words, Evelyn felt the dream melt away, leaving her in her bed, in the early hours of the morning, alone.

For two days, heartsick, she pondered what to do. At last, she decided that she would fight for him, and not let some stone-hearted beast steal him away from her. Calling once more on the services of her investigator, she learned the woman's name and number, and arranged a little rendezvous.

* * *

Jonathan walked slowly from the garage into an empty house. A note from Evelyn, prominently placed on the refrigerator, let him know that she had been called to her mother's side for a minor family emergency, but that she should be home on the morrow. She also had left him supper in the oven, already warm.

After he changed his clothes, Jonathan settled down for a quiet evening, knowing that if there was a problem, Evelyn would surely call him. He knew better than to mess in women's business unless invited; some things men just weren't supposed to understand. After his meal, while he sat in his favorite chair reading the mail, there came a knock on the door. When he opened it, nothing could have startled him more than to see Hydrangea standing there!

While he blinked owlishly, she took a deep breath, and asked, "Aren't you going to invite me in, sugar?" Without waiting for a response, she slowly pushed past him through the doorway, necessarily dragging her breasts all across his upper body in the process.

"I must say," she continued as her practiced eye appraised the home and furnishings, "you've got a nice little place here. Business must be good!"

Sputtering, Jonathan replied, "W-What are you doing here! Are you insane? She could be home at any moment, and then..."

Interrupting him casually, Hydrangea backed him up into the wall, holding him still with her breasts, and placed a finger across his lips. "You're playing games with Hydie, Johnny-boy. I got your note, and you know why I'm here." She slowly pulled down the straps of her top, allowing first one, and then then both, of her breasts to sag free. Forcing him to his knees, she wrapped his head completely in the vastness of her cleavage, rubbing slowly up and down, back and forth, until Jonathan was weak with need.

Releasing him, she sauntered slowly upstairs, shedding her clothes along the way, and flitting her tail at him flirtatiously the whole time. Jonathan ripped at his clothes, struggling up the stairs, to find her, naked, sprawled across his bed.

Without waiting for preamble, he climbed up, and mounted her savagely, animal instinct overwhelming his better sense. At that moment, somehow, quiet words burned their way into what was left of his brain. Right behind him, Evelyn said, "Hello Jonathan."

Everything and everyone seemed frozen. Eventually the tableau was broken Hydrangea rudely asked, "And who the hell are you?"

Evelyn smiled darkly, and simply replied, "I'm his wife, slut."

Hydrangea turned several unnatural shades of grey, and seemed at a loss for words. Jonathan, however, tried to make himself as small as possible, eyes tightly closed, mute. Evelyn spoke across him to the obscenely endowed hippo sprawled upon their marriage bed. "You will leave, now, and never trouble either of us again, taking nothing that is not yours."

Hydrangea took one look at the fury before her, glowing with tribal marks of power, at the wrath in her eyes, and slowly disengaged herself from Jonathan. Breasts sliding and rolling ponderously, she walked out, gathering her clothes as she went, and left without a word.

Evelyn waited until she heard the front door click shut, and then spoke once more to Jonathan. "Husband, you call yourself. What was that, madness? Do you like tits so much, that mine were not enough? Look upon me, and tell me when they are enough!"

As Jonathan looked up, shaking, he saw Evelyn standing there, naked except for her special gown, which this evening made her look almost sinister, instead of sexy. Evelyn placed her hands upon her breasts, and without a sound, they began to grow! She could almost feel the thud as his jaw hit the floor, but the feeling of growing fullness was washing through her, and she nearly lost control.

Finally, she took her hands from her chest, which, while nowhere near the size of Hydrangea's obscene bosom, was still far larger than it had ever been. "There, now is that enough? Do you want more? Is there enough in the entire world to satisfy you?" With that last statement, a small memory echoed through Evelyn's head, and she knew what was needed.

Commanding in a tone that brooked no argument, Evelyn began, "Kneel before me, you that style yourself a husband!" Though she had slipped into the old speech, Jonathan still understood her command, and hesitantly went down on his knees on the floor, cowering from her wrath.

Evelyn smiled down at him, bittersweet, and said, "Watch now, my child, as I prepare your new home. If there is not tit enough in the world to satisfy you, then your world must needs become smaller; I shall become your world." So saying, Evelyn brought her hands and trunk down to her belly, and there began to trace the spiral marked there. Immediately, she could feel it growing, swelling round, and she knew that while she bore his seed, she did not carry his child, but only the precursor of himself.

Faster and faster her belly grew, as she stroked it ceaselessly through her glossy raiment. She could almost feel it creaking and groaning as it swelled, the gown seeming to stretch right along with it, never pulling up or growing tight. Her belly now was huge, pressing her breasts upward, and nearly overbalancing her onto the floor. Finally, she reached lower, and slowly stroked along her sex, and when it began to lengthen, the feeling was indescribable! An involuntary moan broke from her lips, and her head rolled back of its own accord as her fluids began to flow, dripping down her thighs.

Sensing that she was ready, she stepped over Jonathan, first raising the long skirts of her gown, and then letting them fall all around him, the silky material completely hiding him from view. Slowly, she squatted down, and when her sex touched the top of his head she began rocking back and forth on her hips, stroking herself against the ridges of his skull. Unexpectedly, she felt the gown tighten about them, binding them close, and then slowly slide from her body, to cover his. In a reminiscently intrusive sensation, she felt his cord wriggle into her womb, and attach to the growing placenta there, and saw the bright blood begin to flow between them.

Squatting upon her husband, curled now into a ball, his opaque silver caul slowly filling with fluid, she wondered how she would ever fit Jonathan inside her. When the contractions began, the feelings were so overwhelming that her thoughts fled from her, replaced only by the need, and the labor. Her belly rippled and heaved, and she could feel herself settle a bit lower on his head, her leg splayed wide. The mass of her huge belly and breasts was helping her slide down onto him, inch by inch, and her inner muscled responded with a will of their own. She needed him inside her, all of him, more than she had ever wanted anything else in her life!

Inch by slow inch she settled toward the floor, the contractions, more rapid now, rolling and heaving across her wobbling belly. Each was harder than the last, however. As his body grew wider, her hips spread apart almost to the breaking point, and she could feel her capacious muscles almost fraying with the strain. Finally, as the pain grew greater than the pleasure, and she was sure her body could take no more, she felt his hips pass, at last, into her womb, and then the rest was easy.

Finally closed all around him, her belly huge and full before her, Evelyn shook with relief, and satiation, and some other feeling she couldn't quite name, close to satisfaction. Her hand stroked slowly across the patterned swell of her belly, and she whispered, "Next time, my love, my son, will be better, for both of us. Now and always, you are, and will stay, mine and mine alone."

Too exhausted to move, Evelyn slept there on the floor, curled protectively around her huge belly. She dreamt of the time she herself had spent in the womb of the Mother, and how much she had learned, and knew that she also had much to teach.

On the morrow, she awoke, and after several awkward attempts, lurched to her feet. There was no question about wearing any of her clothes. In truth, she doubted that any clothes made would fit her figure, and laughed at the thought that she had become the Mother herself, matron of nations!

Eventually, she managed to wash herself, eat, and she pondered her options. Always, instinctively, one hand, the other, or her trunk caressed her belly, and its precious passenger. She spoke to him constantly, knowing that even though he dreamed, he could hear her well, and learn as he rode within her. She eventually decided that the best course of action open to her was simply to leave; nothing held her here, and her family would understand. She left a note for her clan elders, explaining what had happened, and leaving them to sort out the details. Signing her name above the sacred spiral was sure to raise a few eyebrows, but Evelyn knew that it was the right thing to do.

Taking nothing more than her pouch of precious things, her worn backpack, and what food she could carry, Evelyn set out on foot for the high country. "Every journey begins with a single step," she thought, "And then another one after that." And so she began walking, one slow step at a time.

* * *

A legend grew of a woman of the people, marked with the sign of the First one, treading ever eastward. They said that her belly was so huge, that an entire bull could have been riding inside her, and that her breasts were always full, and ready to feed those who hungered. She listened, counseled, healed, and never would take anything more than a little food in thanks. Wherever she went, she always offered the blessing of the Mother to all, and in her wake more than a few of the old temples came back to life, as the people found there was something left to believe in.

Eventually the tale of the Goddess-marked holy woman made its way to Aveela, for all tales eventually find their way to the wastes, and she wondered, and smiled.

Out in the wilderness, far from the haunts of the modern world, there was a quiet moaning, and then the wail of a new life, entering the world for the second time.

Even farther away, yet closer, other eyes, ancient and young, watched, and She too smiled, at all her children come home.

Fin.

All contents and characters copyright (c) Rochndil, 2002, All commercial rights reserved.