You are a curious, blue-haired dwarf girl named Typeface.

Up and coming journalist of Hacksonville! At least you would be, if you weren’t kidnapped while investigating the disappearances. Speaking of which, the last of the criminals just walked into the interview room.

Was it just you, or was she flushed and sweaty?

Maybe she’s nervous. You would be too, if you were being judged for her crimes.

You’re really impressed by how little time it takes for each interview to take. This goblin woman sure is efficient; she wasn’t lying about the time thing.

Goblins did tend to have a nose for efficiency, with their strange machines and elaborate rituals.

If you had your notepad, you’d be taking notes about all the strange things you’d seen this particular goblin do. You stupidly lost it and your hat in the mines.

You shudder at the thought. Your memories of the time inside the mines is faded from the drugs the bionic vampire gave you. Yet the impressions of emptiness, of pain and hunger remained. When the goblin woman touched you with her tired, sharp-toothed smile, the pain, the fog in your mind, the despair…it all faded away. All that was left of those times was the terrible state of your clothes. Your jeans were ripped in several places and faded gray from work. The shoes you wear are worn, and your t-shirt was reduced to rags that barely hangs to your shoulders, your bra visible through the rips.

You really hope she won’t think less of you for your attire. It is a citizenship interview.

She’s too good for this world, wanting to save the people and kobolds after having gone through such a thing.

Bzzzzzzt!

The last of the criminals is done. It’s your turn!

Maybe you can ask a few questions of your own. You push the revolving door and feel as if everything got slower around you for a second before entering the room.

And you pause for a second at the sight.

The office was modest with a hardwood floor and eggshell white walls. The dark wood desk faced a black couch that you could comfortably lay on. Rather than the goblin you expected, there was something else. She seemed almost human, if not for the horns that curved around her forehead like a dark tiara and her red skin. She’s leaning back on her office chair, her thick thighs in full view as she kicked up her feet on the table. She was mid-stretch as you entered, her tank top slipping high enough to give you a full view of her impressive assets.

You blush at the sight of her dark red nipples.

She gives you a smile and a spade tail whips around behind her. She’s quite beautiful, you admit to yourself.

“Hey there!”

Her smooth voice has a familiar purring, husky tone. It can’t be…?

“Right, I neglected to mention…Hi, I’m Quinn. And this is my true form. I walked around as a goblin to make you guys feel more comfortable.”

What? Now you have more questions!

“But…why? How? What?”

She nods and sets her legs down to type at keys on a complicated-looking typewriter projecting a screen in front of her. You wonder if you can buy one for yourself. How many tokens would that cost?

“You’re confused, but curious. I helped you because I hate it when people take away the freedoms of other people. I believe we should all make our own choices so long we don’t hurt anybody. As for how and what, I’m a bit of a special case, and hold a variety of powers…such as creation of this plane. You’ve never heard of my species, but I’m a type of demon, different from others. I suppose you can call my kind Havenian Demons.”

Your jaw drops. This is…So much information! You need a paper, A PAPER!

“And another reason why I hid myself?” She giggles adorably. “Because I love the expression everyone makes when I tell them this.”

You close your mouth and blink a few times. Not what you’d expect from a being that could create entire dimensions and cure addictions.

She seems so…down to earth and patient, while mischievous and clever.

“If you’re so strong, why did it hurt you so much to heal us?”

“You’re a smart one, too!” She types something and smiles as she answers you. “The best answer I can come up with is that I was a fish out of water at the time. In here, the mana that powers me is resplendent and always available. But I have to go through other means to power myself on your plane. Not just that, but Paradox was far stronger than I had anticipated. Not every day you get to fight a literal immortal.”

Paradox was immortal?!

What the duck!

Then how did Quinn win?

“But enough about me, we’re here to talk about you.”

Oh.

Right.

“Heheh, sorry.” You sheepishly rub the back of your head.

“You were curious, I understand. Now…your name?” She types ‘anime tropes common’, whatever that means.

“Typeface! Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

She waves her hand nonchalantly as she types.

“What did you do before you were taken”

“Journalist, and my expertise in newswriting!” You say proudly.

“Good, I need somebody like you. I think you’ll like what I have available. And if you were to gather one hundred blue tokens, what would you wish for?”

You’re struck dumb. What would you wish for? Before you can help yourself you say it.

“That typewriter.”

Quinn pauses for a moment. She starts laughing and slaps the table.

“You’re a good person, Typeface. Final question: Is there any part of any society you’ve encountered that you don’t like?”

You frown. This one is deep.

“In Hacksonville, I hated and tried to expose the corruption and shady dealings. I’ve personally witnessed the harm they inflict on citizens. In Camelot, everything is nice and clean, but there’s this oppressive atmosphere whenever you’re in the noble areas. Celeste has got them on tight reins, but a few nobles slip through the cracks to hurt others and get away with it.”

“Okay. Thanks for the information. Now, I’ve already checked you, you’re free of diseases, but you’ve got something else.”

“What is it?” A spike of fear buries itself in your heart.

“A mind-alteration spell. I usually try to break it forcibly, but now that we’re in my realm, we can do it more civilly.”

“Wait, a mind-alteration spell? What? Since when have I had it? And if I remove it, will I become a different person?”

“You’re thinking a lot into this. Honestly, I’m no expert. One thing is for sure, you’ll have more cravings, but how much those cravings change you is up to you. I haven’t gotten to a point where I can see the effects without the spell short of hitting the ground running with the cravings at full force. If you want, we can proceed.”

You’re conflicted, but you’re more curious.

“Do it.”

She nods and hits a button on her desk.

“Without bringing up the cravings to break the spell, the only way I could think of to get rid of the spell would be to slowly repress Prillian magic. It may get a bit uncomfortable, but it’s a lot better than chemo.”

She was right. It’s decently uncomfortable, and you feel your magic slowly shrinking and disappearing. As it disappears, a warmth begins to rise up.

Your cheeks, your nose, your ears.

Your special area.

Are you sweating there? That’s never happened before.

Slowly, slowly…Until you feel something break.

“I’m feeling a bit hot…very hot actually. But that’s it. Am I supposed to be feeling this hot?” Your magic slowly comes back but the warmth doesn’t disappear.

“Do you remember the questions I asked you?”

“Sure. You asked for my name, my job. And my wish. Can I change it to know what this warmth is?”

She nods.

“And are you still you?”

You tilt your head. You remember your family, your time in Camelot, your kidnapping in Hacksonville…You feel the same about them as you did before.

But now you want something. It’s as if you were walking through a desert for your entire life and someone told you about water the first time. You’d like to know what you are missing so you can satisfy yourself. You tell Quinn that and she beams.

“You’re still yourself, but you’re really horny.”

Horny? You’re no minotaur!

“But I’m a dwarf.”

She smiles and laughs.

“Figure of speech. From what I can tell, someone cast a spell on Prillia itself, to repress these urges you’re feeling. What you’re feeling is several lifetimes worth of DESIRE. Magic sure is funny like that.”

“Desire for what? It’s like an itch I can’t scratch!”

Quinn leaves her desk and sits beside you on the couch. She’s two feet taller than you, and heavy enough for the couch to pull you closer together. Your thighs are touching as she leans closer to you with her dazzling smile.

You knew she was beautiful before, but now…You want…her?

She trails a finger through your hair, and a warm, happy sensation follows it beneath your chest. You shudder in delight. The sweatiness in your special place increases. Quinn leans in close, close enough for her breath to send shivers down your spine. Her plump lips peck your neck and you hum at the feeling of warmth spreading out from where she touched you..

“How does it feel? Good, right?”

“Marvelous.” You breathe heavily, your entire face nearly as red as her skin. “But…this touching. Isn’t it something shared between husband and wife?”

“It doesn’t have to be. It’s natural, it feels good…why not people helping each other out? Have you ever feel this good before?”

She’s right. You had a boyfriend once, before you decided to pursue your career. You kissed on your anniversaries and holidays, but it never felt like this. It was mostly nervous pecks and a feeling of love…but nothing else.

Maybe if you felt like this when you touched, you would have tried to make your career near him.

Her delicate hands run across run up your pale stomach, making you wiggle in delight.

“How could-Ahn-anybody cast a spell-Ahn- to stop all of this? This…this…passion?”

Quinn shrugs as her hand makes its way down, down, down to your special place, igniting fires beneath your skin. Her hand slips into your pants, expertly unbuttoning your jeans with two fingers.

“No idea. But it’s nice, right?”

You nod as her hands delve deeper to separate your folds.

You bite your lip and moan as her two middle fingers rub your insides as the two outer fingers rub the sides of your entrance. It feels so good, you don’t care if she’s a woman. In fact, she seems to know how rub you better than a man can…

“Typeface.” You face her and find your mouth enveloped in her own.

The feeling of your tongues exploring each other’s mouths, her exotic canines as her hand worked into your wet hole faster and faster.

It’s electrifying.

You close your eyes and feel her other hand reaching for your chest. For your?

She slips her hand underneath your bar. And she pinches your nipple and something wells up inside you.

“MMMMM!”

You feel your walls squeeze the fingers inside you as a feeling of pleasure erupts throughout you. You break free of your kiss and ask.

“What…huff…was…huff…that?”

“Congrats on your first climax, Typeface. How was it?”

Fantastic, amazing, unforgettable. You want to say all of that but you notice something in between her legs. Inside her black suit pants, pushing against the belt, there’s a bulge. When Quinn notices you are staring, and the pants evaporate to smoke, revealing the thing between her legs. It looks like a man’s…

Quinn points to it.

“Oh this? Your DESIRE affected my body. It gave me this penis. Do you want to see how it feels?”

You have to know. You swallow and nod, quickly ripping off your jeans and panties as she looks on with those mesmerizing green eyes. Your butt is cool on the plastic couch and you watch in fascination as the penis gets bigger. You flip around so your face is between the cushions of the couch, sticking your rear in the air. Quinn strokes her length with a meaty schlick schlick schlick, the larger woman putting her free hand on your shoulder to hold you steady.

“I’ll start slow.” She gets close to you and teases the tip around your wet hole.

She pierces your entrance with a long, slow, thrust. The whole thing makes you feel full for the first time in your life. Inch by inch, she stimulates your insides and you clench your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming in pleasure.

This

Is

So

Right!

You find yourself leaning into the slow thrusts, your ass slapping her thighs with wet smacks. You want more.

“Harder.”

She obliges, gently rubbing your thighs. The feeling is rising again, her penis filling your insides before leaving them wanting again. But you want more. There’s something missing.

“Harder”

Quinn starts going faster, the turgid length filling you out completely as her flesh slaps against yours violently, nearly ramming your head in the wall in front of you. You turn to watch her breasts swinging as she bucks into you wildly. She’s surprised for a second as you struggle to explain what’s missing, until you feel a pair of somethingshitting the front of your vagina. They must be the size of tennis balls.

When they slam against your clit, abusing your tight vagina’s entrance, you can’t help feel satisfied. Testicles, that’s what was missing. As if Quinn has made this perfect, she summoned them to dangle beneath her girldick as she was rutting you. The realization nearly makes you go over the edge.

“HARDER!”

Quinn goes into a frenzy, clenching your plump rear as if she were holding onto dear life.

But it makes you feel wanted, loved, even with those silly faces you’re making bite the cushion and your eyes roll back. Those plump, virile balls slam into, you waiting to do…something.

“Do you want to bear my child?”

And the thought fills you, pushing itself into your mind like Quinn’s dick inside your vagina. Being so pleased with the sight of yourself, rotund, lactating as you get rammed, you smile giddily. It clicks, as if it was meant to be.

“Yes! YES! I want your child! Make me pregnant!”

She grabs onto your butt harder and you feel something warm and sticky fill you up. A strange magic flares and you feel yourself bloat as your abdomen swells.

Your breasts grow two sizes, from modest A’s to respectable C’s. You look on in awe as you start lactating, squirting milk like from kinks in a hose as climax after climax thunders through your body.  You sigh contently, flipping over to lean back on your butt, still slick with fluids. When you rub your pregnancy, the feeling of your hands touching new life bringing a sense of satisfaction.

“I knew doing that could get you pregnant, but not this fast.”

“You don’t really have an education on this, huh?” Quinn does that adorable giggle again.

You shake your head shamefully.

“Having sex tends to do that. But the accelerated pregnancy is just a part of my race’s abilities. Did you enjoy it?”

You nod ecstatically as you rub your belly softly.

“But I’m not sure if I’m ready to support a kid.”

Quinn rubs your pregnant stomach, where your child is, making you doubly happy.

“Don’t worry, they grow up quick. As in, you’ll give birth in an hour and they’ll grow up in another ten minutes.”

That’s fast. Maybe too fast.

“How will I get to know the joy of raising a child?”

Her expression softens and she sits next to you again, her soft rump feeling warm against yours. She pets your hair and you beam.

“If you’re a good person, our child love you. You’re treading new ground, Typeface. The others were born imprisoned.” You shudder at the thought of what could imprison Quinn. “They don’t like their sires, but they’re devoted to me, their siblings, and all those I try to protect.”

She kisses you on the cheek and you flush as you find yourself wanting her again.

“As for raising a child…you can find any man, woman, demon or otherwise to share your life with here. Or even several of them, if you choose. As I said before, it’s your freedom, and I’m not going to limit your choice.” That’s open of her.

“But this one…” She traces circles around your stomach, getting your nethers wet again. “Will be a demon. Demons have different needs, and family dynamics between mortals and demons is, well, lewder.”

Interesting. Whoever you give birth to will be just like Quinn in that way. Right now, you really need to do something.

“I need to write about my experiences! Where can I buy a typewriter like yours?”

“At the general store.” She beams. “But first, you might want to wait a bit until the child is born. As for the red token…”

She takes your token and shakes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. You wobble under the weight of your bloated body, but your dwarven strength quickly recovers. Though your shirt is now burst open, leaving your cleavage exposed for all to see.

“Congratulations on becoming a citizen of Haven!” Quinn points to the revolving doors behind the desk. “You can wait for me to finish up. I’ll see you in an hour.”

You walk through the revolving door, belly full and cumbersome. Passing through the door, you feel time shift again and see only three women in the room. All three are pregnant, their clothes torn apart to reveal swollen and leaking tits as their own special places twitch and sweat. The room itself is nice. Circular shag carpets in a variety of colors adorn the room, with bean bags piled in each corner and an unopened chest near the exit. You can see the city through the windows, demons moving so slowly they might as well have been frozen.

The redheaded dwarf is licking at a svelte human’s wet hole while humming happily. The third, a dwarf with blond hair, is touching herself as she watches from a beanbag. You think you would have been heartbroken at the thought of your lover having other women, but now…

Your views on relationships changed. Something so integral to love was taken from the people and now you’re all feeling the brunt of it when it was rightfully returned.

Sex with one person, once in a lifetime, cannot compare to that.

You have needs now, cravings. It’s only right that you help one another out. Pregnancy is an extra bonus to sex.

But where are the other women?

“Weren’t there more of you? What happened to them?” You sit next to the woman touching herself and ask. Half of her head is shaved in the dwarven custom of self-shame, and her brown eyes avoid yours.

“I saw a couple of them pass through here, but they looked different.” She keeps gliding her fingers across her vagina. “They looked like Quinn, with horns and tails.”

She looks at you and looks back down shamefully. She’s masturbating slower now, though she still hasn’t stopped.

“Quinn told me that she could tell I regretted what I’d done. I was trying to help my own family with the pay, but it seems like I got too into it. I’ve got sisters and a brother to take care of, but after I started, I couldn’t bear to face them. She told me I should apologize, but I don’t think that can excuse what I’d done.”

She must have judged the others as guilty and changed them. It’s likely that Quinn didn’t stop at just changing their bodies. It means this one is telling the truth. Someone who can change a person’s entire being, down to their soul, wouldn’t be deceived by mere spoken lies.

“What’s your name?”

“Spokefast. You?”

“Typeface.” You hold out your hand and shake her free hand. “Honestly, I can’t forgive you for what you’d done yet. But I’m willing to try if Quinn has. So how about I help you and you help me?”

She looks sad at first, but when you tell her you want to try, she cracks a wide smile.

You lean down on your side and Spokefast does the same, rolling off the beanbag and laying down comfortably onto the pink shag carpet.

Your rotund bellies are now rubbing against to top of each other as you stare at each other’s chests. You were trying to go for her special place, but it was still a bit difficult to move. Though when you see those tits leaking on the ground, you need a taste.

Latching on to her nipple, she gasps. Licking the nipple in your mouth a few times before sucking on it sends waves of pleasure throughout Spokefast. The milk entering your mouth tastes sweet and refreshing.

You let go and smack your lips.

“You taste really good!”

You feel her tentatively lick your own nipples, causing you to shudder.

The warmth of her mouth encloses one of your tits and you lose yourself in the feeling as milk spurts out of you.

Another pregnant woman walks in and watches in awe. You wave at her, milk dribbling down your chin and she blushes before waving back. The elf looks around for a minute before sitting down in a beanbag and starts admiring her swollen boobs.

You almost laugh; elves either have very big assets, or practically none at all. This one was one of the latter.

“You taste good, too.” Spokefast says. “But can you get my wet pussy? I’m feeling really horny.”

There’s no cat there.  Maybe she means her special place? They probably have more names for it here.

You shimmy up, causing your abdomens to rub against one another sensually. You feel her warm skin against your bloated stomach. The thought of both of you, heavily pregnant, kissing as you gave birth sends sparks up your spine. You feel something loose, liquid erupting from your loins from that small climax.

Spokefast gasps in surprise. You don’t give her time to react. Licking her ‘pussy’ causes her to shiver before you feel something wet lick at your own. You moan into her love hole as it winks at you.

“Are you, nhf going to aim for, mfm, that wish?” Spokefast asks into your pussy, her breath making your hairs stand on end.

“I dunno, ah~. If it means getting impregnated by Quinn a hundred times, I—Yes, right there--wouldn’t mind.”

“But, nnnnnm, it’s bound to be harder to get her to fuck you. She’s a busy leader.”

Within a couple minutes, more people file in. Swollen kobolds, dwarves, elves, humans, goblins...Soon, the room is filled with pregnant women pleasuring one another, talking, or both.

You don’t mind.

Quinn can be everyone’s lover.