Centaurus

Previously on Centaurus: The Size Queen Tea Club become aware that Fey actually exists and is a real person after they meet with the tumblers Zoey and Penny. Vivi puts to the test her Fey dildo product line. The frustrated Loxodon Heather tries to snuu snuu to death a small dogkin called Rebecca, but is instead snuu snuu’ed herself with the help of Wummy.

Now, Chapter 36:

The Dress. 

Ellaria glared at it. The thing had put her in a rather awkward position. The Dress had been measured and cut to fit an elf who did not have a large centaur egg stretching out her belly, which was a problem as she happened to be an elf with a large centaur egg stretching out her belly.

She wanted to put it on, but of course, she couldn't, because it simply wouldn't fit around her expanded waist. That in effect meant only one thing. 

The egg needed to come out.

She looked down at her stark naked body, elven perfection, smooth blemish free skin, incredibly pleasing arcing curves... and then the larger arcing curve of her belly marking the egg inside of her womb. 

She traced her fingers over it, feeling the thing held within her, the thing making her appear six months pregnant. She’d taken it into herself in a moment of wild impulse borne out of a desire to taste just a little of how it would feel to be a broodmother. 

She couldn't deny it, she absolutely loved it. The weight hanging off her hips, the change in her centre of gravity, the warmth emanating from within, the feeling of being fecund and hormonal and filled with life. It was truly wonderful. And now she would get to sample the next part of broodmother-hood. Birth.          

She glanced at the curtain hiding her from the tailor's shop. The light piece of fabric hardly seemed sufficient and there was a gap at the bottom where it didn't quite reach the floor. Beyond it lay Harry’s busy business. Whatever Harry was, he was a talented tailor and he had many customers, over a dozen had been browsing his clothing range when she had come in to collect the dress. 

She bit her lip. Was she really about to give birth with so many people just beyond the thin fabric curtain? No idea what was happening in the small closet-like changing room just feet away from them?

The answer to that was of course a yes and she slowly eased her feet out, her legs forming an A against the corners of the small space. Then her caressing fingers moved up near the top of the bulge in her belly and palmed the shape. Then she began to press down against it.

A soft groan escaped her lips as an increasing feeling of delicious pressure grew around her loins. The egg wasn't going to be birthed easily but that didn't deter her. She tensed her thigh muscles and pressed down hard with her arms, and gradually, the bulge in her belly started to very slowly move downward, skin rolling over the shape within.

She could feel herself spreading internally, cervix gaping wide to allow the egg passage into her passage. It was slow going but the more the egg scraped against her insides the more flashes of stimulation rolled through her body flushing her cheeks and the wetter her pussy became easing the egg’s movement. 

Soon long gossamer strands of her fluids were descending from her reddening muff, stretching down feet before the glistening threads snapped and lightly pattered onto the carpet below. More strands soon followed as her body grew increasingly excited, the stretching of her hyper sensitive nerves around the massive egg driving her wild. She could feel her cervix dilating wide now and her labia starting to part, gaping as a curved glossy snow white surface peeked from between the pink of her lips. Her cunny slowly eased wider then pulled back a bit as she paused for a breather before pushing on, fingers digging into her belly bulge, her internal muscles rhythmically squeezing and milking at the egg, trying to draw it down and out.

The rain of fluid increased and her breath came in pants, a little of the egg just visible between her thighs, her pussy stretched into a lewd O shape around the tip of the smooth rounded surface.

“Tree rot! Was it always this beeg!” she whisper-groaned as she strained, both the incredible pressure and imminent release only climbing.

Her pussy stretched, clit squeezed from its hood, and Ellaria widened her stance further still, spreading her thighs as much as she could as the egg slowly lowered downward, a third of it now visible from her perfect pussy. The curve of an enormous egg over a foot wide between her thighs, labia stretched paper thin around its slippery form, floods of fluid pouring from her now, fat gel like strands of cloudy fem lube that rolled around the egg to the lowest point then dangled down sloppily between her legs reaching all the way to the ground forming a puddle. She was glad for her productivity as it was easing the passage of the egg that was rubbing her nerves into a frenzy.

She looked like she was going to make it... But then the egg got stuck.

She strained and strained, her skin gaining a sheen of sweat, hands slipping on the remainder of her belly bulge as she tried to push it down, but to no avail, the egg would go no further, it had formed a perfect vacuum seal and couldn't be removed.

Ellaria was stuck spread legged in the changing room with a massive egg half out of her pussy, a dozen people making small talk outside, completely unaware of her obscenity, an elf of perfect elegance and staggering beauty with her legs spread awkwardly trying to push out the rest of the massive egg protruding from herself, skin sweaty with the exertion.

“C-c’mon c’mon!!” she muttered, bouncing her hips up and down, trying to shake the thing loose. 

Instead the egg sucked back inside slightly, losing inches of progress. Ellaria groaned and squeezed down as hard as she could. The egg pushed back out further than ever but then sucked back into her once more, refusing to leave.

Biting down on her lip she began a desperate battle, bouncing her hips up and down as she squeezed, trying to push the egg dangling between her thighs out.

Voices neared the curtain and she was horrified to hear them talk of using the changing rooms, then even more horrified to see a hand curl around the changing room curtain, about to rip it aside, exposing her stark naked and extremely compromised position to the entire shop. Worse, her body couldn't stop squeezing and milking at the egg, the thing going in and out of her pussy faster and faster as her pussy hungrily slurped on the thing.

“O-Occupied!” she managed to get out just in time as the curtain started to move.

“Oh, sorry,” came a voice.

Ellaria didn't hear them, her eyes rolling up as the slurping of the egg reached a crescendo and her pussy spasmed, a long spray of clear fluid exploding from her front and spraying up the wall. It was all she could do not to scream, and even with her hands both clamped over her mouth some embarrassing sounds escaped.

“A-ah, ah-- a-ah!!-”

With a loud schloooorping queef the vacuum seal that had prevented the egg’s release finally broke and it slammed to the ground with a bang. The elf soon followed, her legs giving out as they turned to jelly her vastly gaped pussy landing atop the egg, greedily grasping at it as though to take it once more back in, only the fact the egg was on its side preventing her pussy from doing so.

Ellaria rolled off the egg and slumped on the floor, trembling body curled around it, chest rising and falling in quick pants, body rinsed with sweat, lube, and squirt, gaped pussy visible in the changing room’s tall mirror.

She spent a few minutes like that before opening her eyes.

A little panic hit her as she had a clear view under the curtain of the tailor’s shop and of the people browsing the merchandise, more than when she had first entered, nearly twenty people of varying species.

By some miracle no one had noticed anything and she struggled to her knees, shivering at the feel of air cooling her gaped open pussy. 

“Goddamit, this dress had better be worth it.”

After a moment she gathered herself and slowly climbed to her feet.

She picked up the egg. Was it larger than when she had originally put it inside of herself? And was there now red metallic flecks amongst the pink metallic flecks on its glossy porcelain surface? ...Something to check on later.

Stowing the egg in her dimensional bag she removed a cloth and wiped down her sweat soaked skin. Then, once she was cleaned up and as elegant and elvishly calm as ever, she returned to the true object of her attention, the thing hanging from a hook on the changing room wall.

The Dress.

Ellaria had eventually been convinced that allowing it to be finished would be a good thing, although its creator, Harry, might have played on her emotions a little bit on that one, quite literally begging her to let him work, tears running down his face as he knelt on the floor.

Of course, even then, she still wouldn't have allowed it had she not had her own input. 

A dress that was meant solely for looks and gliding around at dinner parties making simpering small talk? That was hardly going to be very useful to an adventurer. What? Was she supposed to hang around gloomy monster filled dungeons while sipping tea and trying to strike up polite conversation with giant spiders and cave bears? No that wouldn't do at all. 

As such she had forced the unfortunate Harry to make the thing at least somewhat practical. He hadn't been happy about that, having to take a knife to his unfinished creation, shortening the floor length fabric, making it fire and stab proof, and adding, horror of horrors, pockets. He had looked like she just suggested setting fire to an orphanage when she’d demanded pockets and he had resisted stubbornly until she burned one of his eyebrows off. 

In the end though, the tailor had found something within her strict limitations… something special… the limits forcing him to go beyond his normal tailoring ability, his creativity elevated. It was obvious to even a layman that the Dress was bypassing current fashion entirely and creating something that would drag all other fashion along with it in its wake as it struck out and broke new ground, a vogue gravity well. 

Creation constrained by limitation sometimes gave rise to innovation, and the Dress that had been made was almost ethereal in its inspiration.

The Dress was something the world had never seen before.

She quickly slipped the Dress over her head and then examined it in the mirror. Despite herself she was pleased with how it looked. The fabric was cinched tight around her now smoothed waist before falling down in a skirt that came half the way down her thigh leaving her elegant legs bare below, the excess fabrics coiling on itself in S shapes around her thighs yet remaining flitty and light, flaring outward and hiding her still exposed gape from sight. Above her waist it cupped her indecently round chest with an intricate floral cutout, strapless, her shoulders and neck bare. 

A summer dress made formal.

The fabric itself was white. White that had started softly glowing when she put it on and filling the small changing room she was in like a summer's day, the tall mirror she examined herself in redoubling it. 

Besides the glow the fabric was threaded with barely visible cotton fine threads of liquid gold shaped into a floral design, trimmed and mirrored with a second floral design in white lace around her bust. The pockets she had ordered were there too, hidden amongst the folds of the skirt, two extra large buttons on each carved from snow white monster ivory, suitable for her adventurer self.

No doubt the Dress was just a loan, after all the tailor's motive was clear in her eyes, she was to be used as an advertising billboard for his business. Obviously. Harry had better hope his work would hold up in battle or his reputation might take on more harm than good.

“Good enough,” she muttered, flicking a lock of red hair aside. She had places to be and couldn't be spending all day at this silly Tailor’s shop.

--

Harry fidgeted with his fingers, picking and chewing at nails that had seen a lot of picking and chewing as of late. 

His eyes drifted from the now bare manikin that had held The Dress to the curtained changing room where the staggeringly beautiful elf, his muse, was putting it on.  

She was taking a frustrating amount of time and he felt sure the sheer suspense was going to cause him health issues, health issues apart from the near heart attack the elf had given him when she had turned up appearing pregnant. It had taken her repeatedly telling him she wasn’t actually pregnant to calm him, that she was simply wearing special adventurer armour beneath her blouse that looked like a pregnancy. That… made a certain amount of sense he had to admit, it wasn't like the elf could have become so pregnant in a few days. She had told him she would simply remove the armour as she had strode past snatching up the Dress and disappearing into the changing room. 

He didn't feel much better if he was honest.

It was just that he had put rather a lot into making this Dress. Okay, more than a lot, he had put his everything into it, he just couldn't bear to see that elf without clothing that would compliment her mind boggling beauty in the most optimal way. 

The journey to create the Dress had been an arduous one, not just because of the elf’s maddening demands that the Dress be made practical, but also because of the hard to acquire materials he had needed to be able to do that, materials that made his previous most coveted mythril silks look like some beggar's rags. 

The core woven from frayed dragon scale was illegal in the extreme and risky to possess, and that was to say nothing of the sketchy dark band he’d sent to plunder the Barrows of the Bardic Barons, a place banned from being even neared by the Adventurers Guild, and anyone else with a lick of sense. The dark band hadn’t come back the same, passing him ancient shimmering fabrics made from the gods knew what then leaving and refusing to answer his letters. He hadn't liked what he’d seen in their eyes.

Finally, there had been the ivory buttons, for that he had contracted a mentalist to erase his memory of how he acquired them and what they were made of. It was the only way he had been able to make the visions go away.

He’d worked without sleep until it was done, the various magics carefully woven in, all designed to be optimally powered by the natural ambience of the user’s mana, the purer the better.

His hands had hurt by the time he had finished.

Yet all of it had needed to be done, he had zero doubt. His creative drive screamed for it, whipping him to madness, the vision of the Dress clawing its way from his imagination into the world, howling to live, to be made real.

The final thing was worth a very illegal fortune just in the material itself, and he knew it to be a masterpiece beyond masterpieces, a once in a century Dress and something he would never ever come close to replicating again. Such a frantic fever of rabid inspiration would only ever come to him once, if only because he feared the next time it would kill him.

The curtain twitched and he drew in a sharp breath, heartbeat thundering, could his creation match the elf’s impossible beauty? Could he live up to his muse?

Ellaria pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the shop.

Harry’s heart missed a beat. The Dress was glowing? Why was it glowing?! And her beauty and the Dress and her beauty and the Dress and her beauty and the Dress and her- he caught himself looking between the summery softly glowing Dress and the elf herself over and over, trapped in a cycle that was breaking his brain, making his blood pump, heating his body. What had he created?

The Dress not only complimented her, it magnified her, making her something more. His eyes traveled from top to bottom. She wore nothing but the Dress, apparently forgoing shoes even though he had left various pairs out for her to choose from. He vaguely recalled Elves had a nakedness habit, something inherited from their past, au naturale and barefoot in the woods was the default for an elf.

There had been conversation in the shop, but that was promptly strangled by her emergence. A man fell over a rack of clothing behind Harry as he stared at her, eyes bugging out of his head. Another crashed against the counter knocking the register to the ground in a deafening metallic crash.

Harry was the first to speak, if it could be called speaking.

“Y-y-y-you!”

“Yes? This is the Dress you made for me Harry, what were you expecting?”

“It’s w-wasnt m-meant to g-glow- and and, h-how much MORE it makes you-!” he managed to choke out, his one remaining eyebrow lifting as far as it could go.

Ellaria’s eyes moved down and narrowed as she saw a small tent being made in the tailor's trousers. 

Harry followed her gaze, realised he was publicly erect, and slapped his hands over his shame, blushing bright red.

“Uh- uh- I’m- th-that's!”

“Pathetic.” sneered the elf. “Really it’s just a Dress, and this is your reaction?”

“J-just a Dress?!? JUST A DRESS?!?” shrieked Harry, “You look- I can't form the words, you're just too much!”

Ellaria scowled, which only made the tailor’s trouser tent twitch, and glared past him at the other customers of the shop, every one of them were frozen and staring at her open mouthed, even the women. Every male looking her way was having similar clothing malfunctions as Harry.

She took a step forward, bare feet coming down on carpet. 

The shop flinched. A particularly nervous looking lupine teenager shuddered, his eyelids fluttering as he curled over his crotch, a damp patch appearing at the tip of the tent in his shorts.

“Oh don't be ridiculous.” snapped Ellaria at the whimpering lupine. She strode past him and shoved open the front door. 

Behind her a chorus of pleas went up, begging her to stay.

The street didn't fare much better and Ellaria was met with people popping tents everywhere she stepped or throwing themselves before her and begging to be given a date, or for straight up marriage.

She booted them aside and continued on her way, but the tide of people just seemed to be growing, her dressed form creating a crowded traffic jam by itself and blocking passage.

It got to the point that even fire wasn’t scaring her admirers and she was forced to flee into an alley, jumping a few walls before finding a secluded place behind a warehouse.

Annoyed beyond belief she stripped and stowed the Dress in her dimensional bag that had been hooked under the skirt.

She almost walked out into the street stark naked then and there but caught her reflection in a window and realised she had forgotten to replace her clothing after taking it off.

She quickly threw on some more standard adventurey clothes and stormed away.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flora eyed her teenage competition. They were… annoyingly cheerful.

Most obvious was Tami who was now partly visible, the roof of the three-storey stable having been dismantled and removed. She seemed most content of the teenagers, filled enormously with still hot horse cum, legs lazily swinging back and forth in the air as she perused the many sheets of paper set out over her belly. She occasionally plucked a chocolate from a box to her side and cooed as she read something of particular interest in whatever it was she was reading.

Down below her the stable courtyard had been turned into an open air lounge, strewn with enormous pillows and sheets and silks, furniture taken from indoors and set out with dozens of servants attending.

Flora herself took up a good third of the space, her pregnant belly set upon innumerable luxurious pillows. 

Another third was mostly taken up by Tami’s teenage friends, Ruby a pink haired wolfkin with obnoxiously dyed pink hair (obviously a tacky copy of a gnome's brilliant natural pink hair), and Sarah a chubby bunnykin with an unusual amount of ear piercings.

The pair of them had apparently been removed from beneath Tami as the stable had been partly dismantled. Both Ruby and Sarah were smaller than Flora and Tami but only in comparison, they were still huge and rounded with cum.

All three of the happy teenagers had just been finished with being bathed by the servants which tended them, their pale taut skin washed and sponged with warm water, their clothing replaced with fluffy white towels that wrapped around their legs and chests.

The both of them, like Tami, also had sheets of paper scattered across their vast cum bellies which they were reading and making pleased sounds, occasionally reciting out loud a particular part which caused the teenagers to giggle and coo.

A number of slim animated ropes rose up the teenagers’ bellies, each of them going between their towel wrapped legs where they were tied around lengths of rubber, lengths of colourful rubber that looked suspiciously horse like and were lazily easing in and out of their pussies, a glossy sheen of their juices rolling down their bellies in long rivulets behind their legs.

“Those silly minotaur girls really had no idea what they had gotten themselves into huh?” said Ruby the wolfkin as the horse dildo, moved by Tami’s autopilot rope, slowly and deliciously eased back into her, feet of rubber gradually slipping by her glistening wet lips, stretching her teenage pussy wider, taking nearly a full minute to reach the base.

“Oh and you did?”

“Well… sorta, I did see Tami who was already pretty big.”

“You could have invited me, you know! I have like soooo many stallions Fey could have absorbed!” came a voice from below. 

The two teenagers in the stable yard looked down over their bellies to see another teenager, a human, one completely normal and un-cumfilled and wearing a school uniform, short pleated skirt bouncing as she animatedly harrumphed.

“You were too busy riding the damned horses!” came a voice further up, Tami turning away from her newsletter. “That's all you ever do these days is ride horses! You nobles don't do anything else! Maybe if you stopped riding horses for five seconds and learned something of commerce you wouldn't feel so threatened by us merchants!”

“I don’t just ride horses Tami, I find that accusation offensive, and, well, You’re not the only ones with a secret!”

“I didn't know there was a secret to keep until you handed me these newsletters Lucy. That Fey is already being read about by the noble ladies circles is uh, something.”

“More than read, you wouldn't believe how hot the trade has gotten with the things, I’ve even seen forgeries being passed around as there aren't enough of the originals!”

“Wait, what do you mean secret?”

“Oh, well wouldn't you just like to know!”

“Tell us or we won't share how it went down with Fey!”

“Are you serious?”

“Totally.”

“Gods. Fiiine.”

The teenager rolled her eyes and then awkwardly shuffled out her feet, spreading her legs. She slid a hand beneath her skirt, pleats folding around her wrist and then fiddled with something, then came the sound of buckles clicking free. Then, tongue sticking from corner of mouth and brow furrowed she slowly eased her hand down, something coming with it. A long wet lurid sound filled the air and along with it many drips of fluid that spattered over the rug and silk covered ground. 

A fat black length flopped from her skirt held at one end. The teenager shuddered as it was freed, taking a moment to gather herself before lifting it into the air trophy like.

An eleven inch black and mottled pink minotaur cock was lifted into the air with a metal ring at its base.

“...Is that a dildo?”

“What? No it's the real deal! Look that’s real minotaur cum on the tip!”

“...Why do you have a severed minotaur penis Lucy?”

The teenager made a sound of exasperation. “It’s not a severed minotaur penis gosh! The metal thing at the bottom here, it's a portal, it's connected to the crotch of some lucky minotaur boy somewhere.”

“...You have a dick portal?... Why?”

“Because it's awesome!” 

Lucy waved the length around as if to demonstrate, the stiff thing waggling in the breeze.

“You haven't lived until you’ve tried horse riding with one of these! Your hips slamming over and over against the hard saddle as the great big muscular stallion races beneath you, just imagining the boy on the other end of the portal losing his mind, and then feeling it as they cum and cum and cum inside of me! HNFFF! It’s the most freeingly wild thing ever!”

The other teenagers considered this.

“Does… this portal ring thing work on anything?”

Lucy scratched her cheek. “I guess, the other Ladies in the tea club I got it from have a huge collection of dicks, one for every occasion. It’s because of a Class one of the Lady Ariawyn’s servants has.”

Stratothrax-After-Dark

Read chapters in advance of release:

Centaurus Patreon