“Tharja, dear?” Robin quietly entered, having walked into the chamber with her nose into a book. “I was told that we had company, but-- ah, uhm.” Only after she had closed the doors behind her did Robin look up to see Tharja splayed out the way she was, her eyes darting immediately to her bare chest and exposed crotch, noticing otherwise how reddened her skin was. Likewise did Robin herself start to blush, and so she chuckled nervously, “Am I… interrupting anything, dear?”
“Hehe~ Not at all, my love… You’ve come at just the right moment, in fact,” Tharja replied, her haunting tone unable to chill Robin at this point in their relationship. She closed her legs and kicked them onto the couch cushions, one knee drawn upwards in a tantalizing invitation for her wife. “My love… I want you. Now.”
Robin stuttered, but gently closed her book of tactics and set it aside. “You seem… eager,” she mentioned, taking the time to remove her coat and hang it. Tharja studied her every motion -- as usual -- and similarly did Robin observe her in return. She raised a brow curiously, “Is this related to the visitors we have?”
Tharja hummed, her arms and legs rolling with desire. “Come here~” she purred in place of an actual answer. She hid her nipples behind her palms, pushing the plushness of her chest together as to entertain Robin, as well as herself. “Don’t make me wait, Robin~ Don’t make me angry~”
Robin laughed and humbly nodded. “I won’t,” she agreed, hastening her approach to the couch with an ever-budding grin. She unbuckled her belt and stepped out of her boots, but with Tharja craving her so badly, it was in this half-dressed state that she clambered onto the couch and put herself above her spouse. Tharja’s devilish smile yearned to be kissed, and so Robin obliged, meeting her lips with her own, their tongues tasting one another in teasing trills.
Tharja’s fingers ran through the hollow-white of Robin’s hair, trailing through its warmth and undoing the tails it was in. Continuing down Robin’s back, Tharja tickled at her partner’s corset, undoing the threads with veteran expertise until it was loose enough to hang low. Robin returned the affection with strokes along Tharja’s slender waist while maintaining her position held over her, but Tharja wanted that distance closed; she pulled down on Robin’s ass with both hands clutching each cheek, demanding that Robin be pressed against her.
A bite into Robin’s neck electrified her into an interrupted breath, Tharja having lifted forward to latch her teeth just above her shoulder. She suckled on the skin, and when separated, left a whispery exhale over Robin’s right ear. Warmed by this gesture, Robin giggled and nuzzled into her wife, but then, her wrist was grabbed -- it was directed, taking her hand directly to a breast. No other words needed to be said between the two sweating bodies as Robin happily took part in what Tharja craved, fondling her breast with pushes and pulls and sensitive pinches.
They kissed again, but Robin’s eyes opened with concern. “... mm? Mm…” She broke from the kiss, compelled to study the breast in her hand. “... Dear, there’s… Is there something moving? I-Inside your…”
Tharja’s amusement was an instant response. Robin’s perplexed expression stoked her flames of arousal all over again, and in bubbly giggles, she stretched up to meet Robin in a hug that pressed their chests together. She kissed her collar bone before answering, “It’s an experiment… It’s a spell I learned…”
Robin blinked, figuring it had to be as much; it would not be the first time Tharja snuck magic into their antics. “What kind of spell is this?” Robin stroked the breast again, her thumb gently circling the nipple in particular. It was light enough to overlook, but there was undeniably little motions happening in the very peak of the breast. Robin began only unsettled by the feeling, but then grew more disturbed as she deduced, “Are our visitors… i-involved…?”
Tharja panted, turned hot by just this dialogue. In a surprise grab, she forced Robin’s hand harder into the breast, using the tactician’s weight to lift herself higher and put them at an even level together. Her smile overtook Robin’s vision, and then with a playful push, she had revolved their positions, putting Robin beneath her laid out on the couch. Robin gawked at the gorgeous body looming over her, pinned by two hands against either shoulder.
Tharja then leaned down into Robin’s ear, whispering a wind of words into it. “They’re inside me,” she giggled with a stammered breath, “Lucina… and Cordelia…! I shrunk them using dark magic… They became so tiny! And now our friends are trapped inside my tit…! That very tit you’re holding right now…! Do you feel them begging to be let out, dear…? Can you imagine the world they’re in…?”
Robin was agasp through this explanation. She stuttered in disbelief, but she knew better than to doubt the reality of Tharja’s power, the lengths she was willing to go to. But the image was hard to decipher in her head, the scene of Lucina and Cordelia being washed about in a chamber of breast milk. What had they been suffering through from just how she massaged Tharja’s chest? Not at all did Robin think that their foreplay would have such epic consequences for two trustworthy companions.
Yet worst of all, a detail neither Robin nor Tharja considered, was how aware the two victims were of their fate. Cordelia was the most conscious of the two, carrying Lucina amidst tidal waves of milk haphazardly splashing all around her. “Robin!” she shouted in what little air she had. “Stop her, Robin! You have to stop her…!” Every grope of the breast was a new assault on the two women, their well-beings at the mercy of Robin and Tharja’s sexuality.
Robin stared full of thought at the nipple, still registering what had happened. Her grip around the breast had loosened but not completely, her touch still warmly revolving around the globe. Tharja breathed heavily over her face, itching with excitement after having explained her horrible secret. Her smile was wide and savage, a droplet of saliva falling from over her lip.
“This is… This is wild, Tharja, even for you…” Robin replied. She tilted her head, then rose her face into Tharja’s chest, snuggling her cheek into the flesh. “How cruel… Hehe… Only a truly god-like dark mage would do such a thing.”
Tharja giggled energetically, pushing her chest outward around Robin’s head. She rocked against her until she was pinned back into the cushions, made submissive beneath her weight. Her hips rotated tantalizingly around Robin’s own, grinding into the gap between her thighs while her hands made a spectacle dancing through her raven hair and down her curves. Robin breathed harshly with such a pressure put over her, but her smile persisted; after so many years of being married to Tharja, wickedness such as shrinking their fellow Shepards was only another adventure to be cherished together.
The liquid world surrounding Lucina and Cordelia suddenly flushed with new movement. Their bodies toiled in the endless milk, splashing about in blind efforts, all because Robin’s hand squeezed the breast from outside. Every such touch concocted a new direction to swirl the unfortunate women, their souls and beings repurposed into becoming a magical thrill for a couple’s sex life.
And vigorously did the couple embrace each other, a distinct madness in the eyes of both women. Tharja pressed her lips hard into Robin’s, claiming her tongue in a pulling twist. Robin exhaled desperately out of Tharja’s mouth, claw-like fingers brushing through her white locks and down around her neck -- tightened there, just short of a strangle, her nails digging into the sensitive throat with a playful callousness. The trouble to breathe inspired further erotic emotions from Robin, whose attention was squarely on that of the one nipple, a bud of flesh that she understood was a cavernous eternity for two close friends.
Tharja removed Robin’s clothes with unrelenting force, tearing the fabric recklessly as to strip her chest out of the corset. Robin was always at Tharja’s will, her body manipulated almost as easily as those shrunken by her spell. A commanding smile from the dark mage was linked to Robin’s drumming heart, like a leash put around it, and it was with such dominance that Tharja leaned into her ear with a whisper, “Drink from me…”
Robin’s smile, subtle as it may have been, was an obedient reply. Her hands gently crawled to the bend of Tharja’s back and used her arc as support to lift forward, her face softly approaching the bare bosom. She nuzzled a cheek into the right breast, fondling her nose into the cleavage, but this teasing was unacceptable to Tharja -- her glare snapped and she surprised Robin by lifting her chin with a finger. Such a harsh dynamic was not new to either of them; Robin had to act away whatever smile she wanted to shed, playing the part well of being Tharja’s puppet. Without any other hesitation, she loyally licky the nipple, producing a pleasurable shudder down her wife’s spine as it lightly bounced from the wet touch.
Both paused willingly, jointly focused on the nipple with a silent but significant intrigue. In their quiet, they each imagined the consequences for Cordelia and Lucina, the unreal universe with which they were submitted to. A warm, creeping giggle melted the couple back into motion, and they continued to rock against one another, Robin’s face gradually pressed deeper into the soft breast.
The heat of their passion manifested in its own torturous fashion for those locked inside the nipple. A rising temperature did more than just usher more panic onto Cordelia and Lucina, depleting from them far more than either realized right away. Cordelia felt the unique stinging all over her skin, and Lucina was stirred awake by the burning. A secondary aspect of Tharja’s unusual spell was taking place: the two women were being digested into the breast milk, becoming one with the creamy waves. Every grope of Tharja’s breast, every pinch of the nipple advanced this gruesome process. Desperately did the duo swim to the sides of their prison, smacking at the walls while still resisting the tackling tides. They screamed for Robin’s help, for either of their two gods to spare mercy.
Robin’s giggle reverberated through their world, as her lips were snug against the flesh at that moment. “I think I hear them,” she claimed tepidly. Her eyes traveled from Tharja’s chest up to her obsessed gaze. “They have such tiny screams… How small did you…?”
Tharja fumbled with little laughs. “Specks,” she answered happily. Her redness deepened, “Like motes of dust… and they’re becoming even smaller. Like droplets… Droplets of my milk…”
Robin kissed the nipple; the most initial leak of wetness excited her taste buds, and her grasp on the boob tightened with desire. As though addicted to that sweet flavor, Robin rapidly stroked the nipple with curls of her tongue, dancing with its shape to the melody of Tharja’s delight. The dark mage wanted more, and so she pulled Robin by the throat tighter into her chest, manually moving her head to her own rhythm. The moment they were leading to was to be an ultimate peak for Tharja, the combined satisfaction of climaxing alongside her lover, and to cherish the success of another magical test.
Tharja’s body loosened into shivers that tickled Robin’s body, wetness seeping from her crotch as she soared into an orgasm. Simultaneous to her moan of pleasure did Robin’s tongue achieve what it had sought; streams of milk erupted from the nipple and into her mouth, amounting only to droplets that the tactician yet appreciated like a full-fledged worshipper. These little mouthfuls more than pleased Robin, perpetually licking for more and more, until the sweetness was enough to set off her own climax underneath Tharja’s weight.
Robin licked her lips, boasting a confident expression while Tharja watched. The tensions of sex was fading, but the soreness was itself a beloved part for the couple. Tharja’s posture relaxed and she slid back along the lounge couch, cuddling between its back and Robin’s post-love strokes. The afterglow of sex was stronger than usual, brightened by the significance of what had occurred; no longer were Lucina and Cordelia of this world as humans, but their existences refined to that of milk, a meager amount that Robin had casually swallowed.
“Mm, I want a taste, too... “ Tharja whined, maneuvering herself into a kiss with Robin. Her tongue dragged along the corners of her lips, hunting out the remaining flavor of her own milk. She giggled devilishly, “It’s… incomparable, isn’t it? The taste of two human souls, eheheh…”
Robin nodded into Tharja’s chest and stroked her sides tenderly. “Nothing can ever compare to what you do, my love,” she dreamily remarked, a drop of sweat descending her brow. As hot as she was, Robin still cuddled into Tharja’s own warmth, and in the position she was in, her lips naturally rounded around the nipple again. As she suckled the tit, Tharja returned the affection with loving caresses through her wife’s hair, biting her lower lip as more of her milk seeped from herself.
Thara’s dark powers proved again to be unlike anything else. Two of Ylisse’s proudest warriors were instantly diminished to an impossible size, only to be digested in breast milk and fed to their own friend. As wicked as the evening was, it was but one engagement for the couple, and they fantasized further of where else to use such a spell as they retired to their bedroom, seeking out more ways to liven the night.