Fabled Milky Mounds (Patreon)

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July 13, 2026 didn’t really differ from the 12th or even the 11th, the thermometer still showed thirty-three degrees Celsius, and the scorching air above the roads of Ipswich shimmered as if the entire city was slowly melting under the July sun.

"God damn, what a day," Brandon Wellington muttered, carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and wiping sweat from his bald head with the other, looking with irritation at the overheated parking lot in front of a small shopping center. Just half an hour outside the office and air conditioning, and his T-shirt was already soaked with the smell of sweat that, despite all the deodorants, immediately hit his nose.

"Mary, why couldn’t you just order delivery?" slipped out of his mouth as a quiet question, or rather, irritation. His hand touched the trunk lid. A click, and the heavy bags immediately dropped onto the fuzzy, slightly dirty mat.

The interior greeted Brandon with thick, scorching air, as if he had opened not a car door, but an oven. He flopped his skinny ass onto the soft upholstery of the front seat and, with hands trembling like a junkie during withdrawal, quickly pressed the car’s start button and a moment later turned on the air conditioner.

The engine reluctantly came to life, the climate system fan roared loudly, but instead of coolness, a stream of air hit his face, almost no different in temperature from the outside.

"Yeah. Exactly what I need right now. More hot air," Brandon grunted, settling more comfortably in the seat and immediately feeling discomfort from a large object that had been in the front pocket of his jeans the whole time.

His hand immediately, though reluctantly, pushed into the tight fabric of the pocket and pulled out a massive gold-plated, as Brandon thought, ring with an oval dark red stone. No wonder it had been bothering him while sitting. More surprising was how, walking to the car, he had forgotten about it.

Brandon silently turned the find between his fingers for a few seconds, examining it from all sides.

"A wish-granting ring, yeah right..." he muttered with a smile, resting his hand on the steering wheel and continuing to look at the ring he had bought in that strange little shop that had recently opened in the mall.

"Grant wishes or not, you’ll fit perfectly into my collection of fantasy junk," Brandon smirked, tossing the ring lightly in his palm. "I’ll put you between the Witcher medallion and that Skyrim bracelet."

Brandon smiled wider. Despite his constant skepticism, he had loved collecting things like this since school. The shelf in his living room was already filled with dragon figurines, maps of fictional kingdoms, books, tabletop RPG dice, a foam sword he once won at a festival, and dozens of small trinkets, each reminding him of worlds he loved.

The air conditioner finally started blowing cool air. Brandon exhaled in relief and automatically put the ring on the index finger of his right hand.

It fit unexpectedly perfectly.

"Hm... I thought it was bigger."

The face of the owner of that strange shop immediately appeared before his eyes. Gray-haired, with a long beard, as if he had deliberately tried to look like a village wizard from a cheap movie.

"If you make a wish, word it very carefully."

Brandon immediately laughed. Here, in the car, he didn’t have to hide his emotions.

"Oh man, that old guy really has some acting skills."

He looked again at the massive red stone. His smile trembled slightly, but still remained on his face. His foot froze above the pedal.

"You know what..." already understanding how stupid it would look from the outside and that later he himself would laugh at it, he began, "if you really do grant wishes... then I want to end up in a real fantasy. A real world. With elves, dragons, magic... where everything is actually real. Where I have awesome abilities no one else has. Where I’m not some peasant, but a real legend. So that everyone immediately understands that I’m special. And of course, so I understand the local language and everything, without any tricks, got it?!"

The last part he said as if he were actually talking to some magical being, not a piece of gold-plated metal with a cheap artificial stone.

For a second he stayed silent, as if expecting something, but then, quietly and a bit awkwardly, smirked, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.

"God... thirty-three degrees outside, and I’m sitting in my car talking to a ring. All that’s left is to wish for a pet dragon and a personal castle."

Brandon was already about to take the ring off when suddenly a bright light hit his eyes, forcing him to shut them.

"What the..." slipped out in a whisper and froze on his tongue, because when the light faded, the familiar interior of his car had disappeared. Instead of the steering wheel and dashboard, tall grass swayed in front of him, dotted with tiny mushrooms. Tall trees with massive roots rose around him like guardians from old legends, and soft daylight broke through their crowns, coloring everything in golden-green tones.

Brandon blinked several times and then sharply inhaled, catching the damp scent of earth, pine, mushrooms, and leaves. Somewhere high above, the wind rustled, and nearby some unfamiliar insect chirped.

But that wasn’t all. Something heavy. No, very heavy, hung on his chest, forcing him to tense all the muscles of his stomach and back, which didn’t help at all. On the contrary, he only became more aware that he wasn’t controlling this unfamiliar weight.

"What... is this..." he exhaled, but the voice that came out of his throat was high, melodic, with words his ears didn’t yet understand, even though his brain calmly processed them and knew their meaning. He fell silent, feeling his heart pounding somewhere in his chest with unfamiliar force.

His gaze dropped on its own, and after that his world seemed to split in two again.

On his chest... no, those were his tits, definitely female, large and massive breasts. Two enormous, heavy, jiggling breasts with pale skin, completely bare, swaying heavily with every breath. They rose and fell in rhythm with his quickened breathing, and every movement caused a strange, unfamiliar sense of weight and sensitivity. Long silver-white hair cascaded down onto his shoulders and those very breasts, partially covering them, but not hiding them.

"No... no, no, this is a dream," Brandon whispered in the same high voice, raising his hand to one of his giant breasts.

His fingers touched warm, firm flesh, and the sensation was so sharp, so real, that his breath caught. The breast was noticeably heavy, full, with a sensitive nipple that instantly reacted to the touch and hardened, sending a wave of unfamiliar warmth through his body. Brandon squeezed harder, feeling the soft tissue yield under his fingers, how the breast swayed with every movement, and how his weak biceps strained even from these light attempts to lift that mass.

He jerked his hand back as if burned and stood there for several seconds, breathing heavily. His heart pounded so hard it echoed in his temples. Then he carefully looked down again, hoping his vision would finally stop mocking him.

Everything was still there.

"My God..." he exhaled. "This... this is impossible..."

He frantically felt his own face, the nose with the familiar bump, the same lips, the same cheekbones, the same large forehead. It was his face and not his at the same time, because along with all of that, the skin was surprisingly smooth and soft, and in places even sensitive. Thin fingers accidentally brushed against eyelashes that had become much longer and, as if guided by some instinct, reached his ears.

"Elf... an elf..." the girl whispered, breathing shakily, and at the same time tried to stand, however she had barely lifted herself when the world around her dangerously pulled her forward.

The body was much lighter than his previous one, but at the same time the two hemispheres, her breasts, violently swung forward, sending a pulling pain into her back, forcing her to desperately search for balance. She reflexively threw out her hand and, swaying, grabbed onto the nearest tree trunk. The rough bark bit into her tender palm, silver hair slid forward in a heavy wave, completely blocking her view, and her massive breasts swayed again, heavily bumping into each other and sending a new wave of sharp, unfamiliar sensations through her body

"No... no... easy... easy..." she muttered, gasping, even though every word still sounded in an unknown language that at the same time felt native to her.

She pressed her shoulder tighter against the tree and forced herself to take a deep breath. That turned out to be a mistake. Her chest expanded, and her heavy breasts noticeably swayed again, as if they lived by their own rules, making the muscles in her back ache in protest even more.

"Just how much do you... weigh?.." she almost whined, carefully supporting that unfamiliar weight with both hands. Her weak arms were already trembling after just a few seconds. "This is... impossible..."

She carefully let go with one hand, and the breast immediately pulled her body to the side, forcing her to grab the tree again.

"My God..."

To look at herself, she had to lean slightly to the side, because something was blocking a normal view.

Apart from a short, roughly sewn skirt made of some dense, almost sack-like fabric, she wore nothing. No shirt. No shoes. No belt. Her feet felt every small stone under them. Smooth pale skin, both on her feet, also reacted to the breeze and, it seemed, even to smells.

"I... I..." she exhaled, squeezing her thighs together and hoping that the emptiness she felt there, between her legs, was just a sensation. Just a slight trick of her overheated brain after a blow to the head.

But the fingers that slid lower along the smooth skin of her stomach left no room for doubt. Between her pressed thighs, where there used to be the familiar weight of a cock, now there was a soft, warm slit. Even from that single touch on that skin, a light electric jolt ran through her entire body, making her immediately pull her hand away.

But her knees had already buckled.

"Oh... fuck..." the elven girl groaned, pressing her forehead against the rough tree trunk. Her breasts swayed heavily with her quickened breathing, her nipples rubbed like hard pebbles against the bark, sending new waves of warmth downward, straight into that new sensitive slit.

"No... no... this is impossible... this is impossible..."

She shook her head frantically, silver hair scattering over her shoulders, again blocking part of her view, and her breathing grew faster and faster. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like its beats echoed throughout the entire forest.

Her thoughts raced, one more terrifying than the other.

‘I’m a legend.’

‘With awesome abilities.’

‘So that everyone immediately understands that I’m special’

"No! AAA!" burst out of the girl’s mouth, but even this scream sounded unnaturally clear, ringing and melodic, as if the forest itself refused to let it turn into a desperate male shout. "No! This isn’t what I wanted! I said no tricks! Just send me back! I... I asked to become a hero, not... not..."

She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly her eyelids hurt, continuing to breathe heavily. Silver hair covered her face, her heart thundered somewhere in her chest, and her thoughts were so tangled she no longer understood whether she should pinch herself again or just lie down on the ground hoping to wake up at home, in the overheated car with the air conditioner running.

"This is a mistake... some damn mistake..." he kept whispering, completely not hearing the quiet snap of a branch behind him.

...

"Tss..."

From between the tangled roots, a green face with long ears cautiously appeared, then a second and a third.

Small creatures barely over a meter tall moved with surprising caution, excitement in their eyes and undisguised pleasure on their faces.

"You... see it?"

"I see it... heh-heh-heh... I see it, I see it"

"Quiet... heh-heh... or you’ll scare it off... heh-heh"

One of them, apparently the oldest in the group, slowly crouched down, continuing to crawl closer.

"Silver hair..."

Another swallowed.

"And those very legendary milk hills they sing about in tales..."

The third added.

"The Moon maiden. The one who is supposed to grant great power to the one who takes her first..."

A long silence hung in the air.

Then the youngest goblin almost soundlessly whispered:

"Brothers... she’s already wet. I can smell it. It’s glistening between her legs... let’s take her. Now. Before she comes to."

The elven girl still stood with her forehead pressed to the trunk, breathing heavily. Her huge breasts were squeezed in her palms, but her fingers sank into the soft, firm flesh, unable to fully cover them. Her nipples burned from the surge of emotions she had not yet learned to control, emotions that immediately translated in her body into arousal. The new slit between her thighs pulsed, traitorously releasing moisture that was already running down in a thin line along the inside of her thigh. Her knees trembled, her weak arms could not keep her balance when she tried to pull away from the tree, feeling burning shame at how aroused she had become.

"I... I don’t want this... send me back..." she whispered in a high, trembling voice, but the phrase broke off, because at that moment a net flew at her with a loud rustle.