By: CaptainTremor
Balthazar, the Prince of Sellig-Stelle, worst fears had been realized. His training in the princely practices of Matronism had begun, and he felt closer to death in his first session than at any point in his life so far.
“How are you doing, Prince? Can you breathe?” Asked Balthazar’s guard Captain, Oline, her expansive body pressed into the prince, burying him in her gut and thighs. Oline, the Guard Captain of Balthazar’s private forces, was a bulwark of Big Girl blubber. At a daunting 10’11’’, she ranked amongst the largest Big Girls who worked under Balthazar’s banner. She was uncontestably wide, with a rotund pear-shaped figure and a gut that would take four Balthazar’s to even rap around, wide hips that struggled against her light brown shorts, and boobs, while small for her size, were as large as Balthazar’s head. Oline was older, a seasoned guard who served the previous royal family long ago, with a shock of grey hair bursting through her brown pixie cut, which matched well with her tan skin, grey tunic, and shimmering lips.
“Or do you need a break?” Asked the Guard Lieutenant, Lihua. She was in a red one-piece, her expansive rear thrust into Balthazar’s back, pressing him deep between two shapely and utterly body-smothering masses of fat. Lihua, the rising star of Balthazar’s guard chapter, was just as young as the prince but had already reached Lituantant. Lihua was a staggering figure, an Amazonian Big Girl at 10’7” with an evocative hourglass figure. She had a pair of inhuman breasts, each as large as Balthazar, a stout but toned stomach that could withstand a cannonball without a flinch, expansive hips equal to a door frame, and a rear that was more a dresser than a shelf. Lihua, even with her monstrous physique, was a beautiful figure, with wondrous black hair tied in an upward braid, enchanting dark brown eyes, purse lips, and a toothy smile that, despite the circumstances, Balthazar found attractive.
“A-GAH! A break, please! A break, PLEASE!” Balthazar squeaked. His thin, five-foot frame was only in his loose grey undergarments, as Ms. Bindy (who stood away in the corner of the room) had insisted he do to preserve the quality of his finery during training. She was right (like always), and he wished he was in a better position to thank her for it.
“Of course. Prince, Lihua, stop for a moment. I think we best instruct him for a tick,” Oline commanded Lihua, who gave a quick nod and took her butt off the back of the prince's body, allowing Balthazar to slide down the curve of Oline’s gut and crash to the padded floor, his breath heavy and hair disheveled and sweaty.
Balthazar had begun the first phase of his new conditioning regime, the “body training.” Oline and Lihua had set up a room exclusively for practice. They had lined the walls and floor of an unused storage room with mattresses tied together with ropes and wall-mounted chains. It was a space exclusively designed to ease Balthazar into being smothered by Big Girls, and he was already dreading that oppressive reality as he could hardly stand the pressure of his guards, much less the noble women he’d be expected to do this for later in life.
“What did you do wrong, Prince?” Oline asked, hands on her knees, looking down at her prince, her voice measured but kind in her desire to teach.
“That I ever agree to do this?” He said, voice venomous with sarcasm.
“HA!” Lihua giggled, covering her mouth as Oline shot her a stink eye for her outburst.
“NO. My Prince, you need to adjust your breathing to our movements. You must feel when we breathe and follow and match it with your own. The body naturally laxes and tenses with our breath, and if you can get a sense for a Big Girl’s breathing pattern, it allows even the heaviest of Big Girl to be livable under,” Oline explained, breathing in and out with exaggerated body language to make her point.
“It is kinda dependant on where you're being squashed under too,” Lihua added, quickly gaining her lost favor back with a knowing nod from Oline at her addition.
“Indeed. I have prepared an exercise for you to articulate this point. My prince, are you prepared to participate?” Oline asked, holding a hand out to her master to help him up.
“Ye-Yes, I am. Very industrious of you captain, to put this much thought into this,” Balthazar coughed, rising from the floor with Oline’s aid. He had expected endless torture from his staff when this entire process began, but he had to admire the thought and care Oline had put into this “education” even if he questioned the subject matter.
“Please, my prince, when we are in this room, formalities do not need to be used when you address me. Oline will do fine.” The older woman smiled, giving a polite bow to illustrate the divide in social rank but a desire to bridge it in this capacity alone.
“Very well, Oline, let us, SIGH, Proceed,” Balthazar said, standing in front of his captain, his posture tense and legs shaking. He did NOT want to do any of this, but his duty to his sisters and people came first, no matter how unpleasant.
Balthazar ruminated on a dozen different excuses he could have pulled and longed to use any one of them at this moment. He stopped himself. His methods of escape had to be used sparingly. He did not want to dull their edge when he truly needed them. Balthazar at least had to do the first few days of training to build the trust in his instructor's mind he was putting an effort in before he did all he could to get out of it.
“Prepare yourself,” Oline said, standing over the prince like a monolith. Her girth had a gravity drawing him ever so slightly closer until it all came crashing down. Oline let her knees give out, and two thousand pounds of the guard captain smashed right into the prince. It seemed like a random tragedy, but Lihua, who watched on, saw it truthfully. This action was calculated and cruel. Balthazar did not even get a chance to think before his entire world became nothing except Oline’s butt. His thin frame smashed into her leftmost butt cheek like a flattened piece of dough. Balthazar was pinned in an instant and could hardly breathe.
“OOOF!!!” Balthazar squealed. His chest and skull felt on the verge of cracking under Oline’s girth. He was pressed under two soft surfaces: a rear and a mattress, but it was still too much.
“I shall remain sitting here for twenty minutes, but I will make myself just loose enough for you to move around once if you apply yourself. All you must do is control your breathing and move to a point where you are most comfortable under me. Do you understand?” Oline explained, shifting up just enough that the pressure Balthazar had been under was lessened.
The space she made for him was not enough to be comfortable, but as she said, he could wiggle his frame if he put his hips into it. He had to move, not just because she told him, but for his survival. He began to move to the right, his face and chest pressed into the sweaty fat of his guard captain as he used his hips and legs to inch himself closer to the natural arching of the buttocks: the butt crack. It took him an agonizing five minutes. Balthazar’s unconditioned body required many breaks with little progress between them, but he made it. He slid himself between Oline’s butt cheeks. The crack of her ass was a breath of (relatively fresh air). The pressure that threatened to shatter his skull was gone. Balthazar was now embraced on either side by pillowy sweaty ass cheeks.
“Good choice, my prince. To rest under a single cheek, while cushioned, reduces your moveability considerably and makes more weight focus on you. Someone placed between the ass cheeks has less immediate weight put upon them, more room to breathe, and…
FFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAARRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!
“A direct route for gas to reach you,” Oline explained, a knowing smile across her face as her brief five-second butt belch rocked right into Balthazar’s mouth. He ate an intestinal mix of hot lime, pork, and spoiled broccoli that made him wretch as it traveled down to his lungs.
“*COUGH* *COUGH* *COUGH* Was that strictly *COUGH* necessary Oline?”
“For the matters of education, yes. The maids are your primary instructors in the Titan Mother Blessing. We will try to minimize the use of those in our sessions if possible. I don’t want to disrupt their process with conflicting information. Lihua, could you add more to that point?” Oline asked, leaning up a bit so Balthazar’s head was exposed, Lihua standing right above him, a smile across her face as wide as her hips.
“Yes, I believe I can,” Lihua beamed, bending down, her crotch just above him, her mighty cheeks visible even from this angle, and something even more foul within smell range:
BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!
Lihua ripped out a raucous fart that, while indirect, traveled right into Balthazar’s already fetid airspace. A 12-second rear roar became all the prince had to use for air. The odor was more airy than Oline’s, but its base stink was still unwelcome, an odor of rotten eggs and chives that made him wretch like he was tasting it himself.
“My prince, between the butt cheeks is the most holy and practical spot for you to be placed. A Big Girl has many other locations to smother you, and none are wrong to choose them, but it is here that the Titan Mother considers the most cherished. So learn to enjoy it, long to appreciate it, and remember we do this all in your name and for your future,” Oline lectured, pressing her rear back down on him, trapping him in with Lihua’s funk, having nothing else to rely on for survival than the moist air between his Guard Captain’s cheeks…And her farts:
PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
…
As promised, Balthazar remained under Oline for twenty minutes, the massive guard captain’s rear never moving an inch as he took in her BO and flatulence as his only means of receiving air.
BBBBBBBBRRAAAPPPPPPHHHHTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!
FFFFFFFAAAAARRRRRTTTTTSSSLLLPPPHHHTTTTT!!!!!!
PPPPPHHHRRRRHHHTTT!!!!
He was lucky he found the ass crack so quickly. He already felt sorer than he thought possible, and it would have been worse if he had not gotten there. The pain he felt was unique, unlike any aches when in his youth learning how to ride horses, fight with a blade, or captain a ship. It was a full-body agony. The only thing keeping him from just letting out an anguished wail was his resolve to see this through no matter what. Balthazar’s torment was for his two sisters' sake, as one would be a queen and the other the founder of their national education system, and it was all thanks to his suffering.
“And I believe that is all the time afforded to us. How are you doing?” Oline asked, releasing her prince from her butt cheeks as she stood up. Balthazar was left in a crater shaped like the Guard captain’s butt, his frame pressed deep into the mashed fabric and cushioning of the mattress below him, his hair blown back, and the entire front of his body coated in sweat that was both his own and Oline’s.
“…I am sore,” Balthazar croaked, unable to free himself from the confines of his mattress butt pressing.
“That is not surprising. You are the ideal height and build for smothering, but your physique is not toned and developed enough to enjoy it! We will be working on that in addition to your smothering practice,” Oline explained, lurching down to help get Balthzar up, only for Ms. Bindy, the shadow in the room, to appear behind her and quickly grab the prince before she could. The two massive women shot the other a look, a sliver of animosity cutting to the other before Ms. Bindy broke eye contact and attended to her charge.
“I have you, my prince,” Ms. Bindy said. Her striking eleven-foot frame made it a trivial matter to grab the man and cradle him in her arms. His entire body pressed right under her bosom like a toddler.
“Tha-thank you, Ms. Bindy,” Balthazar said, already being carried out by his valet while Oline and Lihua waved him goodbye.
“See you on the morrow, Prince Balthazar! Your holy work starts with us, but much more lies before you!” Lihua said, blowing the prince a kiss, who could hardly pay attention to the display when the gravity of her words weighed his thoughts down.
…
Balthazar’s next set of training was not right away. He was given an hour's respite to enjoy his lunch. He did not have the energy to eat. He could hardly move his limbs, much less use a fork and knife. It did not help that this new education required much more hardy foods than he was accustomed to. Ms. Bindy was kind enough to feed him as much as he could before it was time for him to begin his next training session.
It was time for his “Titan Mother Blessing” training, which took him to one of his guest rooms, where a familiar, elegant figure waited outside the door.
“Good tidings, my prince. I hope your lunch suited you well?” Lorelei, the Head Maid of Balthazar’s staff of maids, asked. Lorelei was a beauty to behold, a half-elf-big girl who projected an aura of grace and girth. She was a unique creature, a radiant 9 foot 7 inches with long purple hair tied in a multi-part braid and glowing white eyes. She was a Half-Elf, her ears coming to a bladed point, and her exposed forehead erected a sharp yellow gem, an Elven Sigil, straight from the skull. Her demeanor spoke true to her heritage, straight as a board, arms held behind her back, and face flat and elegant. She was still a Big Girl, and no amount of waifish elven blood would change that. Her hourglass figure, perfectly shaped to her froffy black and white maid dress, spilled out an ample bosom exposed to the world, hips, and ass that ate most of her dress like a horse chewing on hay and stripped white and purple leggings that could fit two Balthazar’s. Lorelei was an intimidating figure, but her cold professionalism could rival Ms. Bindy’s.
“It was, Lorelei, although much ‘denser’ than I am used to if I may be forthright with you,” Balthazar said, legs shaking from the squashing and stomach heavy with loaves of fine bread and rich meats.
“Your appetite will grow as you do, my prince, of that I can assure you. Now, please follow me,” Lorelei asked, opening the door for her prince, face unreadable but words slightly impatient.
“One of my guest rooms?” Balthazar asked, walking through the door to see this room was scaled to Big People. The furniture was immense, particularly the bed. The mattress was four times the size of his own, if inferior in finery and frame.
“For our purposes, consider it a classroom. Now, please, have a seat on the bed,” Lorelei directed, closing the door behind them. Balthazar did as he was told. He struggled to push himself up the bed with his strained arms and legs, but he managed. The prince laid himself flat, letting his soft embrace of the mattress soothe his frayed frame. Balthazar wished he could do the same in his bed, but he would take what he could get.
“Good, now please allow me one moment. I must retrieve someone vital to this training,” Lorelei said, pressing her hands together like she was praying, her Elven Sigil glowing bright like a fire in the night.
“Very well,” Balthazar said, leaning up just enough to watch his Head Maid cast her spell. Lorelei trained in many magics useful for her job, such as being able to teleport the maids across his section of the palace with only a bit of will and a lot of focus. Before Balthazar’s eyes came a yellow burst of energy that dissipated rapidly to reveal another of his maids, Hazen, standing before him.
“It is most pleasant to see you, my prince,” Hazen said. Her voice was low but sweet, her frilly black hair exploding around her head like sheep wool. Hazen was a Big Girl Dwarf, which exchanged the raw size with even heavier curves. At 6 foot 1 Inch, she was huge for her kind, but within a range, Balthazar could make eye contact with her teal peepers, even if just barely. Hazen made up for her shorter stature (for a big girl) with a frame wider than most doors in the palace, a frilly black with a metallic sheen and white dress that could be used to cover an entire dining hall table, breasts the size of boulders, and legs thick as horses and ripping through her stripped teal leggings. That all could not hold a candle to her ass, an incredible beast of booty that stuck out farther than she was tall.
“Hazen, it is good to see you as well,” Balthazar said, sitting up to give his maid a brief bow. He felt a need to be cordial with his maid staff, particularly this branch of them, due to the many…Incidents they have been a part of in the name of good fun. He was sure they had a good laugh, but he hardly felt the same way whenever they smothered him between their curves when cleaning his room or gave him food laced with their various bodily excretions. Hazen was one of the better ones in the prince's experience, but she was quick to jump onto these activities when pushed.
“My prince, close your eyes for a moment,” Lorelei instructed, walking over to his side of the bed and looking over him with a cold indifference that left him uncomfortable.
“Wha-” He started to ask before the Half Elve's sharp fingers clamped his lips shut, veins visibility popping around her Elven Sigil.
“DO. IT. PLEASE.” Lorelei growled; her words barely able to keep a veneer of politeness as she unclamped Balthazar’s lips.
“Thank you. Now, Hazen? Could you do as we discussed?” Lorelei said, her words sharp on Balthazar’s ear, unable to see what either was doing.
“Right away, Ms. Lorelei,” Hazen said, her footsteps heavy on the stone floor it was hard for Balthazar not to notice she walked over to the bed. He felt the mattress briefly dip to the other side and felt a close warmth come over him on either side.
“You may open your eyes, my Prince. We are ready,” Lorelei instructed. Balthazar did as he was told, only to see Hazen’s dressed-up butt held upright above him before crashing straight down.
BBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPHHHHHTTTTT!!!!!!!!
Hazen got pressed DEEP into Hazen's butt instantly, her soft blubber pulling him in greedily before rejecting him with her bassy butt blast. The smell was harsh, a raw sourness that left him heaving for quality air, but unable to do anything to make that happen but shake about violently, his pleas of mercy drowned out by raw booty.
“Ahhhh~” Hazen sighed, leaning up just a bit to let Balthazar’s head out from her bulbous butt.
“An extreme reaction for such a small blessing, my prince,” Lorelei said, shaking her head in disappointment.
“GAH! What is going on, Lorelei?” Balthazar asked, trying to force himself out from under Hazen, but her weight was still pressed deep onto his torso, giving him no chance to escape even if he was not already exhausted.
“We maids have been honored with the duty of building your appreciation to the farts, odors, and other holy things the Titan mother ordains. We have devised MANY methods to do this, but we are patient and wish to do this with as much precision as possible. Hazen has volunteered to help me gauge your overall receptiveness through controlled outbursts. I would have sufficed for the task if not for my issues with restraining the amount of ‘love’ I give each blessing. I shall instead play the role of observer and lecturer and spare you from my flatulence. We do not want to risk reducing you to a state of slumbering bliss from overexposure to my farts without proper understanding. Hazen? Repeat the same amount of gas, I want to see him react again,”
PPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!!!!!
“Captain’s Almighty!” Balthazar yelled. The fart, while just as long, had its spin on the repeated beat of booty. It was hotter, with a more caustic edge that dug right into his lungs upon contact. Anyone would swear if they had such a thing rip right down their lungs.
“‘Captain’s Almighty’? Do you use the Storm Fleet’s faith in your speech, my prince? A failure of your upbringing abroad, I imagine, one we will correct, I assure you. Please use the Titan Mother’s name and related holy figures in your expletives. It is rude to cuss, but it is ruder for a prince of your station to not use the Matronistic ones. I would suggest ‘Fat Mother Forgive me!’ or ‘Titan Mother’s Tush!’, they are quite popular with children. If you want more ‘Advanced’ swears, I am sure you will learn the raunchier ones in time from the other maids or your guards, such foul mouths they have,” Lorelei lectured, tutting her finger at Balthazar as she explained in such unexpected detail on his swear vocabulary. Balthazar found the dissonance of his head maids' decorum and scholarly conduct, and the fact he was stuck under a dwarf’s ass, almost too much to swallow…Just like all the ass sweat he was getting in his mouth.
“...Very well. How was my reaction?” Balthazar asked, trying to wiggle himself out from under Hazen, but it was no use. Regular dwarves were much heavier than an average human or elf, but a Big Girl dwarf was ten times denser than even them! Hazen was not perfectly tidy either. Her stale butt sweat slathered down his face like a river, not to mention the body odor contained between her cheeks.
“ABYSSMAL. You are not prepared for the full brunt of the training I had planned for today. We will need to restrategize. I believe for the next couple weeks we will work through prolonged Blessing immersion paired with intense positive stimulation,” Lorelei said aloud, pacing across the room as she broke down the problem in her head and manifested the solution in her own words. The academic way she approached all this was disconcerting to the young prince, mainly from his lack of understanding of what conclusion she had arrived at.
“And what, may I ask, would that entail?” Balthazar asked, words quivering on his lip as he felt a sense of foreboding wash over him.
“Hazen, show our Prince, please,” Lorelei asked, giving a curt nod as she walked to the other side of the bed, a far distance away and barely in eyesight for the prince.
“Of course~” Hazen cooed, a glint in her eye as she scooted backward. Several thousand pounds of fat griding up Balthazar’s torso was both exhilarating but agonizing, the folds of her ass waving like an ocean with each movement, covering him entirely in a matter of moments.
“What is-URMH!!” Balthazar said, his words cut off as a mouthful of butt fat and sweat invaded his open mouth. He had already been squashed by Hazen with just a regular butt drop but now she had placed all of her ass on his upper body. The sheer size and width of her butt left him utterly swallowed by her rear end several feet deep in either direction. He would have suffocated if Hazen had not placed him directly in her ass crack…And face first with her pulsing, bushy anus. Balthazar was overwhelmed. The utter darkness around him left him near terrified, the swampy smell left him sick, and the warmth left him drained except for one part of his body.
Outside of Hazen’s ass trap, Balthazar’s lower body remained free, stuck between the dwarf maid's thighs, but free all the same. He could hardly feel them, but Hazen and Lorelei could see, at the front of his pants, a noticeable bulge emerging. Both maids gave the other a look of pride. They were getting closer.
“May I fart now, ma’am?” Hazen asked, giving her hips a playful shake that felt like the entire world quaking for Balthazar.
“Not yet, Hazen. I must coach him a minute,” Lorelei said, still a way away from the both of them, but at a perfect view to see the front and back of this experience to get a proper feel for the situation and what words to pick to best educate Balthazar.
“My prince, do you feel that sensation in your nethers? That is your spirit, an orphan of the Titan Mother, yearning for the embrace of one of her daughter's buttocks upon you. Do not feel ashamed. You must embrace the sensations as they bring you closer to her with each throb of its tip. The Titan Mother’s love can be expressed in many forms, and your spirit knows it and yearns for it. Your Orphaned spirit must be guided back to the Titan Mother’s grand graces. That is achieved by the embrace of her Blessing,” Lorelei explained, giving a nod to Hazen, who, with a clench of her cheeks, let lose:
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!
“Do you feel that, my prince? The force, the heat, the smell~” Lorelei continued, her words dripping with a sensuality Balthazar found alien from her, but the hotbox consumed him so that he was suffering from it to even think about it.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBHHHHURRRRUUUUPPPPPHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!
SSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLUUUURRRRPPPPPPPRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!
“It is scorching, it is booming, it is stinking, and it is BEAUTIFUL. Farts are one of the Titan Mother’s gifts to us Big People to show love, be it caring or carnal, to those smaller than us. It is the morally RIGHT to enjoy farts and related bodily smells, embrace them in your lungs, and let them bring you to climax,” Lorelei said, signaling Hazen with a sharp nod to let out even more for their prince (at full force):
BBBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!
FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPHHHHHHTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!
Balthazar got hit back-to-back with two 12-second cheek flappers that shook the whole frame of the bed the two were lying on top of. Hazen’s butt, a chamber of dwarven fat, kept all of the stink in for Balthazar to ferment in. The smell was of raw broccoli, earthy soil, and manure, and it left Balthazar sick in the stomach as their sheer force kept his mouth open for each blast. He swallowed each ass blast, their heat burning the tip of his tongue as he felt close to passing out. He was not even close to stimulated by any of this, which worried Hazen a great deal as she stared at his crotch with fear.
“He is…not very receptive to my flatulence. Am I doing it wrong, Ma’am? Am I not farting hard enough? Do they falter in their smell? Should I have eaten more before this???”
“No, Hazen, he is not accustomed to their beauty yet. I think you should guide him in a more…Traditional sense. Take his pants off and do as we practiced.” Lorelei instructed, her even and calculated even as she told her subordinate to take her Prince's trousers.
“With pleasure~” Hazen smiled, slipping off Balthazar’s pants with a flick of her wrist, revealing his underpants and the noticeable wet bulge growing within. Hazen, eager but well trained, first ran her hand through her thighs and under her crotch, collecting an ooze of her sweat and discharge that, although foul smelling, was one of the ideal lubricants in Matronism sexual practices.
With great care, the dwarven maid snaked her hand down Balthazar’s pants. She carefully gripped onto his dick, her sweaty slime giving her hand a softer touch, and began to pump up and down. She was giving him a hand job.
Balthazar was not made of stone, and no matter how exhausted he was from all this, his body acted on its impulses as he squirmed in pleasure, his penis rising higher and higher with each expert shift of Hazen’s hand up and down his shaft. Balthazar could not recall the last time he was touched like this, yet he wanted it to continue.
“We did not expect you to embrace Matronisms sexual traditions so readily, My Prince, and we are ready to take as long as you need to come around. We are ALL prepared to subject you to the most holy methods the Titan Mother has given us to train a prince of such stubborn spirit: the construction of a deep association in your mind between sexual pleasure and horrid bodily odors,” Lorelei explained, her words cold but hot with purpose as Hazen’s strokes became more rapid. The prince’s member was at full mast, he was so close, and Hazen rewarded him with an onslaught of slimy, soul-stealing farts:
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPRTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!
“GGGGGAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Balthazar heaved as he lost any sense of fresh air or self-control as his cock unleashed a geyser of cum into the air, splattering down onto the ground and oozing out the tip down to Hazen’s hand and his shaft. The prince was hardly in this world anymore, lost between a horrid miasma of Hazen’s butt burps and cavernous crack and his mind trying to come to grips with his cuming and the utter torment he had been subjected to that made it possible.
“And with that climax, you are brought closer to the Titan Mother. Well done, my prince. You too, Hazen.” Lorelei congratulated them and walked over to the two with a subtle but proud smirk. Hazen was practically beaming, her hand slick with her sweat and her prince's cum, which she greedily swallowed with a few quick laps of her metallic dwarven tongue. Hazen finally got up, sitting on the edge of the bed to let Balthazar breathe. He was, once again, in a sweaty crater of mattress and ass mashing, his face drenched in sweat and shart particles while his frame was crushed into the fabric and twitching, his cock deflating to its neutral state from its most recent release and the cold elements.
“How was I, My Prince? Was I good?” Hazen asked, her enthusiasm almost school-girl-like as she licked the remaining residue between her fingers.
“HUH HUH HUH,” Balthazar huffed, not able to respond even if he wanted to after such an extreme experience for him. That was the first time he had been with a Big Girl sexually, and it was only the first of many to come.
“He will need a moment, I think. Hazen, please fetch Ms. Bindy for me while I clean him up. He will need help to get to his next session, I fear,” Lorelei said, gesturing to the door where Ms. Bindy had been standing outside, guarding since her prince had entered.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Hazen nodded, jumping off the bed with a heavy thud and waddling to the door. Lorelei watched her subordinate for a moment before looking down at Balthazar, her porcelain face cracking into a wide-mouthed grin that utterly unnerved him.
“You are simply glowing, my prince. It is a rare thing to break and rebuild someone so untested in Matronism at your age. We will not stop here. Your maids are forever loyal to you and your education. What we did to you today and every day going forward was in your name. It is this I vow to you, Prince Balthazar, that when we are done you will find our Blessings IRRESISTIBLE,” She declared, turning and lifting her dress to expose her rump, an impressive thing covered in shimmering freckles, that she placed down onto him as he squeaked out some last words before she smothered him.
“Tha-HUH-nk you,”
“No, my prince, the pleasure is mine~”
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
…
“Prince Balthazar, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Matron Brust, and I will be your tutor in the practices and history of Matronism going forward,” Matron Brust said, standing at the entrance of his library, hands pressed into her exposed breasts, holding a collection of tomes and papers she had placed on her boobs like a table.
Balthazar, after his experience with the maids, needed a solid hour and a half of recovery. Ms. Bindy had given him a cold bath, some dried fruits and water, and a nap against her breasts. She then quickly carried him to his library, already an hour late, to meet the Matron. He was able to stand on his own now and had his wits about him, but his mobility was shot. He walked with a sorry limp and shoulders slumped like an ape. He had hoped his tardiness would have the Matron rescheduled for another day, but she waited for him patiently, and now he had to deal with her in the last leg of his training for today: Matronism study and practice.
He was to learn under the foot of one of the Matrons in matters related to the Titan Mother, the Sisterhood, and its surrounding faiths and practices. And unlike his other training sessions, he had to do it with a woman he had hardly met.
Balthazar was not unfamiliar with the Matron, but he had only seen her in passing around the palace a time or two during national holidays and galas. It was hard for him to forget a woman like her looking like that.
She was a staggering Big Girl to behold. Brust was strong 12 feet 8 inches with a wizened look to her. She was in her late fifties, with dark brown pigtails corrupted with subtle graying, wise brown eyes, and a soft smile. She was a woman of the cloth of both beauty and experience. Her figure, given ample display with her Matron attire, still held up considerably. Her black gut belched out from her outfit, plump and able to sit all of Balthazar if he were to be placed on it. Her hips expanded out to match an entire church pew, with cheeks that could cover three of them sitting down. Her skin, rich and ebony, spilled out like radiant light from her exposed cleavage, massive mammary monsters that outmatched all of her mega curves easily. Each breast could fit three Balthazar within them, but when they were united, it made for a boob window equal to a royal mattress.
Her Matron’s holy attire was not dissimilar from a nun's but modified to show off as much curvature and skin as possible and allow easy access to those they wish to “Bless” with their bodies. Her veil and crown band were a vibrant black and shimmering white, respectively, with a band of amethysts encrusted on the band, a sign of her high status in the church. Her black tunic was segmented heavily and given a golden banded v-neck, with lengths of fabric broken to reveal all of her legs and all of her crotch, only her expansive backside being fully covered. She covered her front side with an intricate scapular, which broke with her tunic to expose all of her breasts and stop just past her inner thigh. On the odd scapular was the symbol of the Titan Mother, a golden silhouette of an extreme pear-shaped figure, the body of the Titan Mother.
“Thank you for coming, Matron Brust. I must apologize for my tardiness. I was…Unready for my training and have been paying for it, as have you with my absences. I understand you Matrons are very busy,” Balthazar said, giving her a deep bow that nearly made him lose his balance.
“There is no need to apologize, Balthazar. A Matron must nurture and embrace others in the name of the Titan Mother, no matter the species, time, or place, and it is no different with one of her very Princes! Your fatigue is not unfamiliar to me, and the early challenges are well-documented. Many princes' entire educations have been recorded for prosperity and taught in a tome known as the ‘Princely Parables’, and it is my duty, in addition to tutoring you, to author its newest chapter!” Brust said, bowing to him (that somehow did not cause the items on her breasts to fall) and presenting to Balthazar the tome in question, a large piece of scripture with an illustration of various princes' crowned heads sticking out from under queens and Matrons backsides and breasts.
“Well, I must say I was unaware of such a tome, but I hope not to disappoint regardless,” Balthazar said, a nervous smile on his face as he looked at the book and what sort of tortures it detailed about his ancestor's training.
“You are unfamiliar with it? Well, it seems you DO need a proper education in your faith, young Prince!” Matron Brust huffed, placing the book back on her breasts and patting the smaller man on the head with affection. She had a way about her not unlike Balthazar’s school teachers growing up, which put him at ease for the first time since all of this began.
“Hehe, I do indeed, shall we get started?” Balthazar asked, starting to walk ahead, but his movement was pitiful; his steps staggered, and his back craned awkwardly. Matron Brust took notice and decided the prince deserved some matronly care.
“Yes, let us,” Brust said, leaning down to grab the back of Balthazar’s shirt and walking him over to a nearby table, his stomach exposed as his skinny frame made his own tunic a sack for him to be carried by.
“Oh! Thank you, Matron, but I can walk,” Balthazar said, trying to wiggle himself loose but was too fatigued and sore to escape the grip of someone over twice his size.
“Hm? Oh, my apologies. I am prone to doing this with my students back in the Sisterhood. Should I refrain from doing so in the future?” Brust asked, arriving at an extra large table, scaled for the largest of big girls (which Burst easily applied), and sat herself down… While also sliding Balthazar between the deep depths of her inner thighs, his back pressed between the padded ebony stomach, an overcast of her roof-like breasts, and her thick leg meat.
“What are y-” Balthazar squeaked, his mouth swallowed up between Matron Brust’s thighs as they chewed him in just deep enough to leave only his head exposed.
“Getting seated! We have far too much to cover with our limited time today, and I believe intimacy is vital in blossoming a mind. Are you in a good position?” Brust asked, not even able to see the young prince from under her boobs, but could feel his body, bony but tender, clamped between her.
“Yes, but-” He began before a sudden outburst deeper in Brust’s bulbous body broke his train of thought.
FFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!
BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPP!!!!!!!
“Excellent! To begin, I believe a rudimentary understanding of our faith’s central canon may be in order.” Matron Brust started, utterly unphased by her sudden butt bursts that washed across the entire room. Balthazar was in a poor spot for a lot of reasons, particularly how he was placed in the only exit for the Matron’s farts to get to, so they burst out from under him like a gross gale. Her odor was oddly airy, smelling of spoiled fruit and ripe eggs, but they stuck. The smell lingered in his nose and made the air hard to breathe. He had a feeling the entire atmosphere of his library would be nearly uninhabitable by the time they were through.
“The Titan Mother, the goddess of Growth, Motherhood, and Fertility, came to our world when it was young and unprotected.” Matron Brust began, paraphrasing a story she had dedicated all her life, her words chosen carefully, and emphasis given and taken as needed to fit her one-prince audience.
“The realms were ravaged by monsters, demons, and dragons who feasted on our misery and flesh, their hunger never sated and our torment never-ending.” She continued, words bold and impassioned. Balthazar found her tone infectious, and the story, while vaguely familiar to his ear, was almost new.
“The Titan Mother saw us all and wept for our lack of divine protection. So she called us Orphans who needed to be adopted into her care. The Titan Mother selected eight women from among the earliest mortal races. She chose a human, a giant, a centaur, a minotaur, an orc, a goblin, a dwarf, and an elf and made them the first Big Girls and granted them holy power unrivaled. These women would become known to us in legend as the first Grand Matrons, those who shepherded our ancestors when they needed it most and led great armies against the horrors that sought to consume us all.” Brust concluded, letting out a cleansing breath and bobbing her head in an internal prayer…Which necessitated a ‘blessing’ Balthazar was to be the first recipient of:
BBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHTTTT!!!!!!
“*COUGH* YES *COUGH* Matron Brust, I am somewhat familiar with that story. I am mostly curious where the, ah, ‘Titan Mother Blessing’ portion of faith comes into play,” Balthazar said, his words struggling against the flatulence bubbling up and bursting in his lungs. He was curious to see what the Titan Mother saw fit to make literal farts as part of her matriarchial religion.
“Well, the stories describe that the first Grand Matrons had a sacred edict to nurture and mother their people as they would their children. These women were gifted physical size, strength, and excretions beyond even the mightiest ‘Big People’ seen today. The realms during those times were ravaged and untamed, so it was the duty of Grand Matrons and their Big Person followers to give their people the warmth, nourishment, and comfort they required till proper shelter and agriculture could take root.”
“Meaning?”
“The Grand Matrons could feed their people and enrich the soil with bountiful breast milk and excrement that flowed like rivers. They could keep them warm and safe from harm in their monstrously bountiful and fatty curves and ward off demons and beasts with their indescribable body odor and flatulence! These acts became symbolic as acts of kindness, care, protection, love, and, by extension, a blessing of the Titan Mother herself that those who can grant them can thank her for the ability to do so! Like so!” Matron Brust explained, leaning to the side a bit, her thighs tightening around her student, as she forced out a proper fart for her education anecdote:
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The entire room shook at the force of Brust’s ass blast, the smell much richer, eggy, and rumbling that left a steaming miasma across the entire room. Balthazar felt like he was bathed in dragon’s flame, his skin stung against the immediate heat of the fart, and his eyes and nose watered like waterfalls. He was thanking the Storm Fleet he had been late and cut their time short because he doubted he could stand much more of this in a proper session.
“We have long since grown past the original necessity of the Blessings. Our lands are fertile, our borders secure, and the horrors caged in their realms, but we could lose these things at any moment. The fact Big People are still born means the Titan Mother still believes we and her blessings are needed. We are all orphans under her care, but some had been granted the powers to see that those who truly need nurturing, smothering love can truly receive it in her sted!!” Matron Brust said, her words exhaled with such expediency it was clear she had justified such a thing many times over throughout the years.
“That is where the Sisterhood comes in? The Grand Matrons started it, I imagine?”
“Correct! The Sisterhood of the Titan Mother was established by the Human, Dwarf, and Elven Grand Matrons I mentioned earlier, fittingly named after their legendary sisterhood and alliance. We have several ‘sibling’ faiths established by the other original Grand Matrons with different, but still Matronistic, holy practices. The giants and orcs practice more militaristic and caste-based religions, the minotaurs and centaur's faith are more nomadic and naturalistic, and the goblins have a more insular and familial-based holy practice. We will touch on all of those at later points in your studies. For now, the Sisterhood of the Titan Mother, our faith, is what we will focus on. Have you been following along fine, Prince Balthazar?” Brust asked, leaning to the side once more to pontificate her point with a powerful poot:
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“I *COUGH* believe so, yes,” Balthazar said, his face running with tears and nose dripping from the spicy air he had to breathe. He was left with nothing fresh to nourish his lungs but Brust’s odors, and he had hoped this torment would end soon.
“Good. I think you deserve a reward,” Brust smiled, patting the prince on the head as she used her other hand to fiddle with her dress. Balthazar was unable to see what the Matron was doing from his thigh-locked spot. He could feel the slow, forceful undulations of the boobied roof. Matron Brust forced one of her tits out from her dress and scapular. The fabric strained against such a mammoth mammary unleashed. Balthazar looked up in awe at the ebony beast of a boob flopping down beside him and was at a loss when the knife-sized nipple began to burst with a white fluid. She was lactating.
“Have a taste, my prince. Please, indulge!” Matron Brust commanded, forcing her exposed boob up against the prince's side, sloshing it like a water skin to entice him closer.
“I don’t think that is necessar- MURPH!!!” Balthazar tried to stop her with words but found his entire mouth filled with a monstrous nipple for his efforts. He did not get even a moment to breathe before his mouth was drowned in creamy tit milk. Brust’s breasts lactated with too much force, his mouth oozing out milk as he swallowed every few seconds just not to drown.
“Let my milk flow through you, Prince Balthazar. May my creamy generosity and care become the basin where you seek nourishment and togetherness,” Brust smiled, ignorant at the ordeal she was putting him through in the name of kindness. It was a short torment, as the moment she finished speaking, so too did her blathering boob ends its geyser of milk down Balthazar’s throat.
“GAH! I-I-I think I am, *GROAN* satisfied, thank you,” Balthazar groaned, his face and shirt utterly drenched in white cream and eyes red from fart stink and trauma. His stomach sloshed with an entire cauldron’s worth of breast milk, the rich taste sticking to his tongue and evoking a deep thirst for water.
“No, Prince, thank the Titan Mother for this glorious power she has granted me and others of the sisterhood,” Matron Brust smiled, shaking out lingering spurts of milk from her nipple.
“You are given powers for your faith? Like a wizard or sorcerer?” Balthazar asked, trying to keep the topic away from anything that would put him in more gross circumstances. He was also earnestly interested in whether the Titan Mother was a true deity in some respect. If she gave her followers powers, perhaps there were some practical benefits in store for him.
“We do indeed. We, of the sisterhood, are given the powers expected of a cleric or priest of another faith, but many unique to us and only granted by women of the church. Our organization is divided into several ranks, which denote our capacity for the Titan Mother’s magics and our abilities to live up to her ideals. Anyone who accepted into the Sisterhood begins as a Sister (which is also a term many of us at any rank refer to each other in casual conversation). As a Sister grows in skill and power, she rises to the rank of Priestess and then Mistress, the latter of which are permitted to open their churches and lead sermons and rituals on their own. Above the Mistresses are the Arch-Mistresses, Big People who oversee Mistresses in their assigned regions from a major chapel in a township or better. Above them are us Matrons. We oversee all Arch-Mistresses and below from here in the capital and answer directly to the leader of our faith, the Grand Matron, a woman selected by the Titan Mother herself to lead her followers in her sted!”
“And where do the powers come in?” Balthazar asked, a bit bewildered at the entire organizational regurgitation he had to listen to instead of the nature of their powers.
“Oh, apologies, I wandered in topic there! Well, our powers are measured in faith and experience in making the Titan Mother’s will manifest. A Sister is rarely capable of these magics at first, but once she has committed herself for a few years, they are often capable of using clerical magics. When they reach the rank of Mistress, they exhibit the unique powers enabled by our exclusive worship of the Titan Mother. A Matron like myself is a cleric of impressive power and can command nearly all the abilities the Titan Mother grants. Allow me to demonstrate~” Brust smiled, grabbing the prince and standing up from the chair, a noticeable blotch of sweat-stained into the cushioned area she sat in. The Matron placed Balthazar onto the spot she was sitting, the smaller man sinking into the squalid cushioning a fair bit, and walked a few paces back, ready to show off the powers she could make possible.
“I am capable of producing breast milk despite not being with child, and it is enriched with magical properties that make it more nourishing and bountiful than what would be physically possible,” Matron Brust demonstrated by unleashing both of her boobs from her dress, the massive mammaries spurting out mists breast milk that freckled across the prince like paint.
The Matron then turned herself around, her expansive dress-covered rear pointed out towards the prince before she unleashed something truly vile:
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The fart was something Balthazar could hardly even describe. The length of time it spurted out from her intestinal confines was horrid, a solid minute of her odious odor. The smell was not airy and lingering like the others, but unbearably potent and targeted straight at him, an odor of raw shit that made his eyes itch and lungs lose any will to live. The worst of it was the force, hitting him like a gale that forced the entire chair back onto the ground with a heavy thud.
“My flatulence can be imbued with more force, smell, and focus, among other properties, at my will!” Brust explained, waving the air around her butt playfully. Balthazar was stunned, his head spinning from the smell and force he had just been hit with. He did not even react as Brust loomed over him, her smiling face and naked breasts betraying her as she lowered her ass just a few inches away from her face. He was able to notice one odd detail: Her dress had buttoned flaps at the bottom, which she had unfastened while he was stunned and released her entire naked black bottom onto him.
“And I produce inhuman quantities of excrement that make for an enchanting meal or an ideal fertilizer!” She smiled, her face as innocent as could be while Balthazar’s eyes dilated to needle points as he realized what he was about to be hit with:
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A of liquid shit blasted out from Matron Brust onto Balthazar point blank. It was like a volcano, shooting out with such molten force the entire chair the prince was sitting in broke under him. He wished he could do the same, as the burning heat, utterly soul-killing smell, and the force she was shooting it out cracked the ground under him. It was a solid minute-long eruption and in that time he was utterly submerged in a pile of shit the size of three of him. He still hung on but wished, more than anything, that he was not even himself, but some deckhand on a pirate ship, thousands of miles away from all of this.
“Any questions, Prince Balthazar?”
“...No…”
“Great! Enjoy, dear Prince, you have earned it~”
…
EPILOGUE
…
“How are you feeling, my prince?” Ms. Bindy asked, her massive and sculpted frame naked as she poured water out from a nearby basin on her prince, who lay on the ground, still covered in crap and utterly exhausted.
“Like the Storm Fleet had left me to drown in a sea of stink, Ms. Bindy. I just want to eat my dinner and dream this day away,” Balthazar said, warm water running down his bony and bruised body and carrying away the shit smears and other excrement.
“If that is what you will, my Prince, it shall be so. Dinner will be done the moment we have finished bathing you.” Ms. Bindy said, pouring more and more water on her young prince, a subtle twitch of frustration on her brow as the stains were too stubborn to glide off.
“Excellent,” Balthazar said, closing his eyes and trying to disassociate from the world. He had been through hell, but the rest of the night was his to relax and recover.
“And I am pleased to tell you your Aunt is on schedule to join you this evening. She has been most eager to hear how your training went,”
“Wonderful…” Balthazar sighed. He had forgotten his aunt wanted to visit him after his first day. It would be an ordeal, but he was confident he could weather anything after today.
“She even took the time to invite your sisters as well. It will be the first time you have all gathered for a meal in some time, I believe,” Ms. Bindy commented, taking a rag and scrubbing Balthazar’s naked frame with a gentle cadence.
“JUST Wonderful…” He said, retracting his internal confidence for this upcoming meal. She was a lot, but having her and both of his sisters there too? It was going to be a different kind of hell for him that night, and he knew it.