“Look! Lust after them! Lust after me! New objects for your obsession!”
She spun and wiggled, making her breasts bounce and flail as wildly as possible.
She stepped back over and sliced down the length of Flemmal’s upper torso, from his neck down to his navel.
Flemmal screamed, higher than Jularra thought a man could. She chuckled, but no one could hear it over Flemmal.
“What? Isn’t fucking all you care about? You’re getting to look at my breasts! The queen’s breasts. Aren’t you getting excited? Aren’t you getting hard for me?”
Flemmal's hysterical screaming settled into a constant flow of loud crying and whimpering.
“Please! Please stop,” he begged. “I’ll stop. I promise. I promise!”
Jularra laughed and slammed her fist down onto his balls. His body jumped as he returned to screaming.
“Are my breasts not enough? Surely, they must help matters. Since there’s nothing in this world you care more for than the female form, this pleases you, no?”
Flemmal continued whining and whimpering.
Jularra jumped up on the table, topless, addressing the room rhetorically at first before looking down to Flemmal. As she spoke, she pushed her undergarments down to her feet, and next, her chemise. She stepped out from them and kicked them away.
“If my breasts do not satiate your needs, then how about this?”
Jularra stepped forward on the table, straddling Flemmal's face.
“Look at it! Look at me! Is this what you like? Is this what you want?"
Jularra’s chest heaved with passion and anger. She slowly began to bend her knees, lowering herself a little at a time.
“Get ready! Another womb for you to claim!”
Just as her pubic hair was about to tickle Flemmal’s chin, she flung her pelvis back and crouched on all fours. She slowly crept backwards before slamming her rear down on the table at his feet. After spinning and dangling her legs off the edge, long enough only to give Flemmal a departing, hateful look, Jularra snatched her clothes up, threw them over her shoulder, and calmly headed for the solar to get dressed.
The hall was dead silent, except for a few pops from the large fire at the center of the far wall. Then Flemmal spoke up.
“After all that, you’re not even going to sit on me?”
Jularra stopped in her tracks, still facing the entrance to the solar. She tilted her head and looked up as if trying to decide how his comment made her feel. After a few deep breaths, Jularra unsheathed the dagger from the belt draped over her shoulder, turned, and headed back to Flemmal.
From his perspective, Flemmal didn’t immediately see the dagger, and chuckled at having gotten under the queen’s skin.
“You might have to help me get ready. Those cuts you gave me soured the mood a bit!”
Jularra drew closer, held up her dagger, and flexed her fingers around the handle in a small flourish.
“Where are you going with that?” Flemmal asked. His pompous voice squeaked and broke with fear once more.
Jularra returned to his side and held the dagger, point up, staring down at him. She slowly looked him over from head to toe, then started to drag her eyes back up. She paused at his groin. His scared cock was shriveled and flaccid. His balls were wrinkly and drawn up. She lashed out and grabbed around the base of his shaft and balls with one hand.
Flemmal screamed. “Wait! No! Wait—”
Jularra brought the dagger down and started to slice, though only enough to draw blood. Starting just above his penis, she carved a circle around his lackluster jewels until the ends of the circle met. Flemmal screamed the entire time, almost as if she was trying to cut something off, but his cowardly whining soon turned to fearful curiosity as he strained his head and neck up to see what was actually happening. Jularra tossed her dagger onto the table and quickly smeared some of the slice’s blood across his genitals. Flemmal started to stutter a question but Jularra interrupted him.
“Masters of creation, please answer Flemmal’s prayers. Grow his phallus by a multiple of fifty. Use him as an example of the price of iniquity.”
After Jularra finished uttering her spell, the room fell quiet in anticipation of whatever was about to happen. Flemmal’s chest bobbed up and down in rapid succession. His neck shook from continuing to strain to look down between his legs.
After a few seconds, Flemmal let his head fall back down to the table. He apparently thought enough time had passed for Jularra’s spell to take place. He was wrong.
With a shrill cry and a stiff jump, Flemmal tried to shoot off the table, but the guards easily kept him down. He immediately began screaming at the top of his lungs as his penis and testicles began to grow. The skin swelled rapidly, but Flemmal wailed in horror as it failed to keep up with the accelerated growth of his genitals. Within seconds, the skin became tight and shiny. Slight rips began to appear. Like extremely chapped and raw skin, little crevasses of bloody cracks dug themselves into the skin as his genitals swelled.
Flemmal’s shrieks of pain crescendoed until his voice gave out. His penis continued to bulge into its ever-increasing size. Only the quiet but rapid expulsions of air from his lungs could be heard until he began to gently sob as his nerves grew accustomed to the shock. Within a few moments, Jularra’s spell was complete.
Flemmal’s lower torso, legs, and feet had mostly disappeared under the grotesque mass of his new three-hundred-inch penis and accompanying twenty-five-pound mound of scrotum. Resembling a pair of conjoined pigs, the sickening pounds of new flesh spilled across the table and started to slip off the edges. Once the growing finally stopped, Jularra stepped back, looked at the mess and smiled, before looking up to Flemmal’s face. Only the remainder of the man's weak whimpering could be heard through the
