Extract from John Parker's Journal.

8th of September, noon.

I AWOKE LATE, hearing Nina shuffle out of bed as I was coming to. I had the most extraordinary dream! It must have been a dream, because it was too fantastic to be anything else. I appeared to wake up in the night and shuffle out into the room in which we had taken our late dinner in search of the bathroom; but here I found the Countess waiting for me. She stood by the fireplace, staring into the dying embers with her back to me.

“Restless, John?” She asked and turned. Instantly, the flames roared up again
behind her. Her intensely red lips parted in a smile, showing pearly, unnaturally sharp teeth. “Good. So am I. Let us do something about that.” She stepped forward; her dress turned to ash and fluttered away in an unseen wind in that same instant, baring her deathly pale wealth of womanly curves at me, barely contained in racy, tight-fitting lingerie.

I opened my mouth in shock, scrambling for a reply, but she was on me in just another few steps, all but trapping me between her and the wall. “Come now,” she purred, enthralling me with a seductive voice thick as honey. “I’ve seen how you looked at me, at them. Come; worship my breasts. You cannot deny your desire.” She squeezed her bust between her arms, pressed them forward to envelop my face completely. They felt soft and inviting, but frighteningly cold. As if reading my thoughts, she seized my hands and pressed them against the overwhelming sides of her chest, her larger palms encompassing mine. “Come, share your warmth with me. Warm me up with your passion, your blood.” Her brassiere disappeared, and I found her gigantic nipple, pale pink, forcing its way into my mouth. I tried to accommodate it, kissing and rolling it between my teeth, and as I massaged her chest, I heard her exhale in bliss.

Then I was on the table, sitting back as the Countess slipped my underwear off with hunger in eyes. “Yes...” she whispered, even that simple word sending shivers down my spine and blood throbbing through my manhood. She wrapped her titanic tits around it, completely hiding my shaft, and squeezed them up and down, tight as a vise. I tried to resist, to hold back, but she mocked my efforts with a lecherous smile. “You cannot deny me, or my breasts, John Parker. No-one can. Cum; give me what I want; watch as I grow grander, more powerful.”

Against my own will, I did as she commanded, inhaling sharply as my hips bucked and my ejaculation splattered hot and wet between her breasts. And then, things became even more impossible. The Countess laughed in triumph, still fucking me with her tits; but as I watched, they seemed to swell in her hands, to grow, encompassing more of my pelvis with every stroke. Then they exceeded my hips entirely, still growing, enveloping me in divinely soft, shapely breasts as they rose like dough. “It can’t be!” I managed to stammer, staring helplessly at the Countess, who seemed just as enthralled with her own lust, her face contorted in delirious pleasure from domineering me with her expanding bust. I pushed at her, but it was no use; her cleavage claimed me entirely and as the world went black, I heard her growl in deep, husky tones: “You’re mine, John Parker.”  

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