To Raise an Army (Patreon)
Content
Contains: Willing yiff with magic tendrils, impregnation, hyper belly, breasts, and hips.
Art by Superi
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Wise men would say there are no shortcuts in life.
Errol would say such men are suckers. What was the point of wasting years learning to twist the fabric of reality to one’s will if not to cheat? Go ahead and judge such a philosophy, but consider how many people that did not gain success through self-serving tactics or lucky inheritance. No. Hard work was for talentless minions and losers.
Just like the regulars of the Wolf’s Alehouse on this fine, warm evening. Five angry losers sat around Errol at a circular table, glaring and grumbling as they lost another hand to her. When the brown-haired mouse waltzed in barely into her twenties and waving gold around like she did not understand the value of currency it seemed like an easy win. Typical human riff raff looking down on the glorious genius that is beast-men. No one could even suspect an hour later that Errol had learned two important things in the past month; how to teleport small objects and count cards.
It turned out to be a simple ploy Errol had brainstormed a long ago. Having to search ten taverns and Inns for a group of smelly, half-drunken humans playing Hold’em was the hardest part. Once they had welcomed her to the table, she played the past twenty minutes coasting through each deal. Losing did not matter at that point, she just needed to add a magic mark to as many cards as possible. Now most of the deck was jinxed, allowing one clever and proud mouse to switch any of them around; usually putting them at the top of the deck or into her hand. The hardest trick was making sure she did not accidently switch out another player’s card by mistake.
Then again, the night was getting late and most of the players were showing very few coins left on their table space. It would surprise no one if it was the last hand. Only one robed man remained to stare down Errol’s smug grin. He took a minute to regard his two cards, and then the four already dealt in the open; a pair of twos, a four, and a queen.
“I bet all-in,” he said with confidence Errol did not expect.
She found it hard not to laugh when the meager few coins he had clinked into the pot. “The determination is cute and all, but you don’t have that much left to put in with me.”
“Not coin, but I have this.” The man ignored chuckles from the other bar flies as he reached into his pack. What landed atop the smile pile of metal discs was a long piece of paper rolled up and neatly tied by a red ribbon.
“Oh boy! Paper!” Errol rolled her eyes while twirling a finger sarcastically in the air. “I don’t care what spells on that thing. It won’t even come close to matching my cash.”
“You think so?” The robed man wiggled his eyebrows at Errol’s confused stare. “Why not try appraising it first?”
“Pfft! Fine!” With a snap of her fingers, Errol’s pointer finger emitted a faint blue glow, which she then directed at the moldy parchment.
Seconds later the mouse shot up in her chair, tail thrashing with anxious intent. When it came to scrolls, they were almost locked at being able to store only basic and weak spells. The power she appraised coming from this scrap resonated far beyond most conventional magic users. Errol had not felt such a similar force since years past, when she was tasked to communicate with a relic of godly origin.
“Interested now?”
“H-how? Wha?” Errol looked from the scroll to the man and back. Without hesitation, she rapped her knuckles on the table. “Call! All in!”
The dealer, who clearly did not understand magic, scoffed but dealt the last card. Almost everyone but Errol felt tension in the reveal; a ten.
“Hah!” The robbed man cheered as he promptly flipped his two cards over; another pair of two’s. His four of a kind gave plenty of reason to smugly shove it in this bratty vermin’s snout. “Ready to spend the night in the sewers?”
“You tell me,” Errol responded with an almost bored tone. Her cards got flipped, sending a ripple throughout the tavern. A pair of queens grinned back at the dumbstruck man’s faces, leaving Errol with a nice full house. She did not even need to cheat that round. Lady luck just has a way of rewarding brilliance like hers.
“A round of drinks on my tab!” Errol declared to less aggressive grumblings.
Maybe it was also luck that everyone took Errol’s amazing win so well, too. She expected at least one attempted mugging while trying to spool up a mountain of gold into one sack. Still, it did not hurt to offer a minor compensation to a bunch of already inebriated adventurers. That would increase her odds they would be too stone-faced to try breaking into her room later tonight.
The robe man was especially awkward, only staring at Errol until the mouse had departed upstairs for the night. Humans can go on being weird social creatures. She was way too tired to care about his loses right now. Once the deadbolt was on the door, Errol flopped onto the straw bed to unravel her new prize.
“Instant Evil Army Spell?”
Emerald eyes passed over the large top text several times. The implications alone were enough of an adrenaline rush to wake Errol up. She rolled out the rest of the scroll, giving its instructions a quick glance over. This was no joke, but a true summoning spell to raise an army for the casters every needs. No wonder it housed so much energy on a single slip of paper. There were almost no calls for reagents, and the few needed were common fodder already in Errol’s pack. Apparently most of the conjuring was done through the caster themselves; a sharing of life energy to give form or some mumbo jumbo.
Summoning was not one of her favorite schools of magic, but Errol got the jist of it. Forget conning a few chumps out of their beer money. By tomorrow morning, this exceptional mouse was going to be annexing the town. This could be the start of a new empire for all beast-men.
Well, no point getting ahead of herself. The scroll did not even indicate just how big an army it would summon. Best to try that out first. Errol rolled off the bed for her backpack to dig out her usual spell-casting gear. A few minutes of lighting scented candles and drawing chalk on the floorboards allowed her to make a decent summoning circle. The diagram on the scroll was smudged but still legible to a mouse’s keen eyes.
“Okay. Now... stand in circle and recites spell verse six through eight…” Errol felt odd stepping into her own creation. Most of her experiences with summons ended with the target creature being conjured into the circle rather than near it. Maybe it was more of a protection thing for her own safety. A single person usually took a lot of coaxing to recognize Errol as their superior. An army was sure to take longer and might be violent about it. Yeah, that sounded about right. Errol took a reassured breath and channeled power into the lines at her feet, mouth moving in a hushed whisper as she read aloud the glyphic incantations.
The reaction was almost immediate. As the last word left Errol’s lips she became surrounded by a pulsing blue glow. Magic poured out of the scroll, using the lines of her summon circle to call on powers from another plane of existence. They made themselves know as wavy tendrils that seeped from the floor to stroke and caress the fur between Errol’s toes. She giggled reflexively, letting the magical feelers creep up her legs in gentle, exploring patterns. They seemed to take in every contour of her physical being, with rapt attention focused on her womanly hips.
In fact, they seemed to stop their searching at her waist. Errol’s ears folded with rising concern for how the magic was making passes along her butt and between her thighs. Before she could reconsider, several tendrils converged on her crotch. The protective material of a leotard did nothing to hinder incorporeal forces. They slipped through the fabric to push hard against Errol’s...
“Aah haa!! W-what the... nnggh?”
The mouses legs would have buckled, were they not locked in place by forces beyond mortal existence. Ethereal power drilled against her pussy lips, driving it open to flood her deepest insides. The energy was surprisingly warm against Errol’s tender muscles as it stretched them before bumping into her cervix at the end.
Try as she might Errol could not even jerk her skinny worm tail out of the hold this crazy spell had on her. As if in response to the resistance, the wisp inside her pulsed a massaging wave along her birth canal. Her body seized up, quickly finding her leotard getting damp and face growing flushed.
“O-okay. This is hot and all, but I’d really like to summon a-aah! Nnnggghh!!”
Another pulse stretched its bulge along the length of Errol’s shaft, stealing her breath away. Arms slumped uselessly to her sides, letting the scroll slip onto the floor. It reached her cervix with a chilling blast that made her body shudder hard. Damn, this thing figured out all the delightful spots to poke.
“Aah! Paah! C-come on your stupid spell! W-what does t-this have to do with-MMPPHHH!!”
Despite expecting it, the surge running through her loins completely melted the mouse’s resolve to fight. It did not take a genius as great as her to figure out this god-tier spell was intent on fucking her. On the bright side, it was doing a fantastic job unlike the mouse’s last three lovers combined. It met her volcanic dripping juices with subtle ice magic to stimulate all her nerves. At some point she had regained enough strength to massage at her perky breasts through the leotard’s fabric. No reason to fight through what was surely going to be a great fling.
Maybe this was some kind of offering ritual.
BLUMP! BLUMP! BLUMP! BLUMP! BLUMP! BLUMP!
“SQUEAK! Aah! Aah! F-fuck yes! Bring on that AAAA-rmy!”
The pulses continued to drive into Errol’s pussy with quickening force, just like a mortal lover. Shame she could not convince it to tease her tail and hair a little. The mouse had a few passions for foreplay, after all. Oh well, it’s constant strikes against her sweet spots left little room to complain.
Speaking of spots, her insides were feeling oddly loose. Somehow it clicked in the back of Errol’s mind that her cervix was twitching, almost yawning open with each chilling blast that struck it. Was she being slowly fed some other magic? Its purpose did not seem to stop at her crotch either. Other parts of the mouse felt oddly shifting from her pleasured shivers.
“Aah! W-w-what the fuuuuck!? Nngh!?”
Errol glanced down at the breasts in her hands, too heated from the thrusting to give a proper scream. Both mounds she used to take pride in being perky apples were inflating into the range of ripened watermelons. As another pulse of cold magic filled her insides, they swelled up a little bigger against her palms. The cups of her leotard forcibly slid down from the overwhelming flesh spilling out, revealing the outer rim of puffer areolas the size of saucer plates.
Normally this would have been a call for some anti-magic resistance. A mouse with a body as awesome as hers was a temple not even gods should get to spoil. Problem was that she was inches from orgasm and the forces at play were savvy to this. The pulses increased their speed to the point there they gave no pause. Cold magic poured against the end of Errol’s shaft, filtering into her opened womb.
“Hnngh!” Errol arched her back with eyes squinted closed. Forget casting counter spells. It was all she could do to hold on to breasts that were squishing grey fur through the gaps in her fingers. The rush of pleasure left her too far gone to notice when her hips widened several inches. Excess fat thickened out her thighs and butt, which did nothing to stop the circle tendrils from continuing their work.
They did not need to work for much longer. Errol took three gulping breaths before letting out a silent cry at the ceiling of her rented room. Juices poured out from her swollen pussy to sizzle away in the heat of the summoning circle. Inner muscles clenched and relaxed in several hard contractions, trying to milk a cock that was ultimately incorporeal. As it did so, the chill of its magic grew, almost like a real cock injecting its load deep inside the mouse.
Much like a typical man, the spell finished inside Errol and vanished before she had even settled into afterglow. It’s force keeping her in place released so suddenly that she collapsed to the floor with a surprised squeak. The light faded out, leaving only the mundane burning of lamps to illuminate the room. A moment later the chalk itself evaporated, burning the summoning circle into the wood just enough to probably upset the innkeeper.
Errol had been too reduced to a quivering mess of gelatin to care about that now. While her stomach churned and gurgled, there was just enough strength left in her arms to pull up onto the bed for a proper sleep. An impressive feat with her tits ripping out of her leotard with loud sloshes.
“HNNGGH!!”
Sunlight filtered through that one fated crack in the window every establishment seemed to have. It was always in the right position to blind a person upon waking up.
However, that was not what abruptly brought Errol out of her dreams of being an evil empress. Credit for that went to a cramp seizing her midriff. Instinct caused her to grab at it with both hands, only to find a large hefty weight obstructing most of her body.
Rapidly blinking away the morning grog, Errol could discover many alarming things in the early morning light. For one, her breasts had continued growing over the night to become some hefty sacs of grey furred flesh and areola. Their twin mounds made it extremely difficult to gaze past or sit up. Not that she needed to do either to see the even bigger mountain of round furry skin rising beyond them. A giant sphere the mouse’s roaming hands quickly realized was her stomach.
The combined swollen weights had caused Errol to sink considerably into her bed. Good thing she was healthy and stubborn. It only took four tries before righting into a sitting position along the edge. Such movements brought attention to a very plush pillow under her, which Errol realised was her own bloated ass.
“Squeak!?!”
She could not question all this swelling before another hard cramp rolled over her distended belly. Errol leaned forward, letting breasts spill around her stomach’s crest. Hands roamed around the tight surface, discovering a popped belly button at the peak. Breathes hissed out between clenched teeth, but then her eyes shot wide open in a gasp. Just as the muscles relaxed she felt a series of bumps push against her palms. There was only one reason these two occurrences would happen at once, and Errol did not like that.
“Son of a fucking fuck fuck fuckity fuck!”
The room became filled with the intelligent articulation expected of a brilliant young mage. Standing up on two feet with so much weight was a chore in itself. Trying to squat enough to snatch up the scroll on the floor was a complete adventure. Errol ended up taking it as a minor victory to recover it without falling on her ruined fat ass. But self gratification would have to wait while she read over the scrolls bottom text.
The parts she had not bothered to read before casting its spell.
“Uh huh... sacrifice life energy to conjure... six to eight hours gestation inside womb? Males should not cast without aid of high tier support magic? Expect to birth up to eighteen kids per cast? BIRTH!? Oh, that son of a f-f-f nnnggghh!! Ah shit!”
The burning rage inside Errol transitioned into what she realized was her hardest contraction yet. It also lasted uncomfortably long, during which she felt something inside her give. By the time her muscles relaxed, the heavily panting mouse found her feet in a small puddle of clear fluids.
“That goddamn mage,” Errol muttered, rubbing away some unkempt bangs from her eyes. A million thoughts raced through her panicked mind. Not only was her perfect lithe figure ruined, but now she was going to have to spend some mostly hard earned money on leotard repairs. “HURP!?”
As another contraction built up, something huge pressed into Errol’s birth canal, forcing her stance wider. At least she was about to get her army, but were they going to be leaving in armor or baby carriages?