Burying the Hatchet - Conclusion

Conclusion

The witch softened under her advances, practically melting as Abigail pressed into her.  She felt Lilith smile wickedly through the kiss – and suddenly she bit down against Abigail’s bottom lip.

Abby flinched.  It had taken her by surprise, and Lilith's teeth were sharp.

“Oops.  My mistake, I didn't think you were that fragile.”  The witch grinned innocently up from Abigail’s lap.

Abby grinned in return.  “I'm going to get you for that.”

“Promise?”

In a flash, Abigail lifted the tiny woman, and slammed her naked back against a nearby tree.  Holding her with her feet dangling high above the ground.

Lilith's eyes widened.

“Promise.”

She sank her teeth into the woman’s shoulder – gently at first.  Lilith moaned as she slowly increased the pressure, grabbing Abigail for support, wrapping her thighs around her waist.  Abby indulged her, leaning in until she felt a wet spot of warmth plush against her stomach.

The witch groaned.  “That feels really good.  You can… bite harder.  A lot harder, actually.  If you want.”

Abby laughed in her face.  And began to lick her instead.  Her face, her neck, the tops of her breasts.  Lilith squealed and struggled, but Abigail held her fast.  There was something feral, almost lupine about it – as though she were grooming the woman, and making a point as she did.  Lilith's skin was salty with sweat, and beneath that was the bitter tang of cigarettes, and deeper still, the honey-sweetness of her body wash.

Gradually, she gave in to what Lilith wanted.  Mixing in little nips and bites, as she explored her body.  The witch moaned especially loud when these bites fell on her tits, or the soft parts of her thighs.  By now her hair was a mess, her expression wild.

“Please,” the smaller woman gasped.  Then began to say it over and over, as Abigail lapped down her tummy.  “Please.  Please.  Please!”

She considered taunting Lilith about this.  But it would've been a waste of words to ask, ‘please what,’ when they both knew the answer.  And the word itself was already the second-highest currency Lilith could offer.  Abigail accepted it.

She lifted the witch higher, used her thumbs to force her legs apart, and dove face-first into her cunt.

It turned out Lilith shared another trait with Eve, besides the glowing of her eyes: the girl was unreasonably wet.  Abigail wondered for a moment if it was something common among all the members of their order – before Lilith snapped her back to reality.  She grabbed a fistful of Abigail’s hair, let out a death metal scream, and had her first orgasm of the night.  It hadn't even been ten seconds.

Abby didn't bother to count after that.  Lilith was voracious, insatiable, and it took hardly any effort to push her over the edge.  Partly it was that the witch had a hair trigger.  But even in this moment, the two of them were good conversationalists.  Lilith's moans had the power of language, communicating precisely where Abigail should direct her attentions.  And Abigail told Lilith how to move, when to lie back or lean forward, with the faintest tilting of her head.  A few times, she had to make it clear that she needed Lilith to stop squeezing so hard with her thighs – the witch was tiny, but powerful.

They went until Abigail’s jaw began to cramp.  By then the alcohol was starting to catch up with her.  She wished she had brought some water.  But in its absence, she needed to get off her feet for a while.

She pulled Lilith away from the tree, dropped her to the ground on her back.  The woman looked up as Abigail towered over her.

“My turn,” Abby growled.  “You’re gonna get me off now, understand?”

Lilith nodded emphatically, and beckoned her closer.

Abigail knelt, dropped low, prepared to sit on the witch's face.  What a treat that she didn't have to be gentle.  She was going to grind this girl into the dust….

“Wait.”

Abby waited.  “Everything okay?”

The witch gazed back, a transcendent smile splitting her face from ear to ear.  “Yeah, I'm good.  I wanted to know… can I use magic for this?”

She laughed. “You're asking my permission?”

Lilith blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Can you understand why I’d want your enthusiastic consent for something like that?  Especially right now?”

“Yeah, I can.  Sorry for teasing you.”  Abigail thought for a moment.  “I think… for right now… no using magic to get me off.”

The witch looked disappointed.

“Not for our first time, I mean.  I want to see what you can do with your natural skills.  Next time, you can magic me into a fuck-coma for all I care.”

“Who says there's going to be a next time?”

Abigail laughed again.  Lilith laughed with her.

“But I specifically mean no sex magic,” Abby went on.  “There's no reason you have to be beneath me.  Metaphorically, anyway.  Like you said: you don't have to pretend you're less than you are to make me comfortable.”

The witch smiled, and began to grow.  Abigail was obligated to spread her thighs to accommodate her.  In only a few seconds, Lilith had matched her height of nine feet.

The mini-giantess gave her a playful kiss on the labia.  Then went to work.

Right away, Abigail knew she was in trouble.  Lilith was just too good.  Oftentimes, noises Abby made in bed were a bit theatrical, intended to encourage her partner.  Not here.  Every moan, every yip and howl, was absolutely torn from her.  She was powerless to stop them.  Lilith knew it, too.  She could only see the woman’s glowing eyes, but even that was enough to be sure Lilith was smirking.

“Hey, Abigail?” the woman asked sweetly, a few minutes in – blessedly giving her a break.

“Y-yeah?”

“I've been thinking.  This height I'm at now.  It doesn't actually represent our normal difference.  I should be bigger, if I’m compensating for your present size.  I’m naturally five-nine.  And you're what, four-seven?”

“Actually these days, my average is more like–”

Her words cut off in a scream as Lilith went back to eating her out, growing bigger with every lick.   She quickly reached the height difference she'd described – head and shoulders taller than Abby – and didn't slow for a moment.  She was large enough that Abigail was at her mercy, a mere plaything, even if she was technically on top.  And then the woman’s growth accelerated.  She felt herself lifted bodily by Lilith’s chest, her knees no longer able to reach the forest floor.  Lilith's tongue flicked, her fingers thrust, all of them getting bigger by the second.  Abigail’s voice cracked.  Her throat was getting hoarse.

And still, Lilith grew.

She was three times Abigail’s size now, almost filling the clearing.  She held Abigail to her lips with tender hands that wrapped fully around her body, massaging her like a stress toy.  The witch was holding in her growth now.  Saving it up, then gaining height in large pulses each time Abigail came.  As though claiming a victory.

And then, Lilith began to edge her.

Abigail was near her physical limit by that point.  She held on as best she could, weathering the assault.  Lilith was simply toying with her, not going to let her cum that final time until she was damn well ready.  From the look of savage glee in her eyes, the witch might very well go on like this until sun up.  Abigail knew she could end it by simply raising her hand and calling a surrender.  She glared petulantly down at the smirking witch, sweat dripping from her bangs.

“Not bad,” the giantess purred.  “I'm honestly impressed you made it this far without breaking.  You're tougher than you look, babygirl.  So I’ll grant you my mercy.  I'm going to count backward from one hundred….”

“Please,” Abigail interrupted.

“Pardon?”

“I….”  Abigail held up her hand, palm out.  “I don't want to count backward.  You're really fucking good, Lilith.  Okay?  You won.  So.  Finish me.  Please.”

Lilith inhaled sharply.  Then clamped down, and did something with her tongue that made Abigail's vision go black.

As she came, she felt the witch swell beneath her.  So big now that her cheeks forced Abigail’s thighs all the way apart as she grew.  Yet it seemed oddly muted.  A relatively small growth spurt, for accepting the surrender of an old enemy.

Abigail wondered at it.  She would've expected Lilith to really lord the victory over her in this moment.  Why was she holding back?

The sensation that followed came on suddenly.  Abigail recognized it at once, though feeling it from this source was an utter shock – like lightning out of a clear blue sky.  Her own body began to swell, expanding rapidly in all directions, fast enough to more than keep pace with Lilith.  Abigail moaned out in ecstasy, her fingers digging into the dirt.  Her body doubled in size, then doubled again.  In the space of five seconds, her growth had all but erased Lilith's height advantage.

In the aftermath, the two women stared at each other.  Both of them were blushing furiously.

“Can you usually do that?” Abigail whispered.  “Make someone else grow?  Eve said she can’t, except under, um, very specific circumstances.  But there's no way you feel that for me.  Right?  Because–”

“Abby, shut up.”  The blue-haired giantess scrunched her face in thought, clearly wrestling with an uncomfortable idea.  Lilith had a beautifully expressive face, and Abigail had a front row seat to watch her transition through at least a dozen emotions in as many seconds.

Finally, her expression resolved into a timid smile.  She leaned forward, and experimentally licked Abigail again.

Abby moaned – and grew bigger.

They sat together after that.  There were things to be decided.  Midnight bargains to be struck.  At first, Lilith was still bigger.  Her clever fingers helped Abigail to close the gap.  Then the two of them took turns outgrowing each other, as they explored the bounds of their new relationship.

They startled a flock of crows as they crested the trees together.  Abigail confessed she'd always liked them, not least because of their pluralization – murder.  Lilith agreed.  Another thing they had in common.

Words eventually failed them.  They found a position where they could sit, and mutually exchange pleasure.  Breathing hot, muffling moans with soul kisses.  The world around them became increasingly insignificant.

When they finally stopped – by mutual decree – they were so big that they towered over every tree in the forest.  High enough to see the garish city light glow, hundreds of miles away on the horizon.  Abigail did a little math, and put the lower bound of their height at three hundred feet.  She could've figured it out more precisely, but she had better things to think about.

The wind was intense, and a little cold up here.  Lilith hugged her.  She hugged back.  Lilith’s long blue hair ruffled, stirring about them in a pretty little whirlwind.

High above, that same wind parted the clouds.  And at last, the strawberry moon shone down.  Tempting, and friendly, and two days from full.

Lilith met her eye.  Then, deliberately, fixed the moon with an angry smile.  She threw back her head, and howled in her high-timbred voice.

Abby’s first instinct was to shush her.  There were at least three towns close enough to hear that.  Big body, big voice, and who knew the consequences.

But the immediate consequences were just the coyotes.  Howling along in agreement.

“We howl at the moon,” Lilith said – suddenly shy again.  “You in?”

Abigail had read somewhere that howling at the moon was a misnomer.  Coyotes, or wolves for that matter, didn't do that.  Probably those coyotes were howling to mark out territory, or express their ennui.  More likely, it was because they were aware there were two giant somethings in the forest tonight, and everyone better take care.

But there were lots of other reasons canines howled.  Including, to celebrate a successful hunt.

She favored Lilith with a smile.  Took a deep breath, and howled at the top of her lungs.

They went on like that.  Trading howls, pausing in between to giggle, or share a kiss.  And celebrated their new pack.