Armas was nervous and why shouldn't he be? Together with ninety-nine others, he stood in a circle. Ready to gamble their life away. Well, not really. Only the race he was born with.

A gong sounded and everyone - including Armas - was taking one step forward. Each one in front of a small lectern looking extrusion of a giant ancient artifact. This very artifact was the reason for the few dozens of races calling this world their home. Once there had been only one race. Humans. Before the artifact of the ancients had been found.

The gong sounded again and Armas placed his right hand on the lectern-like extension. Nearly everyone did the same. A few hesitated. Almas could understand why. This was a gamble. The odds were nearly impossible against one. Once everyone touched the artifact they all would be cocooned by magic. Only then one would be chosen by random. The lucky winner could create a new race from scratch.

Previous winners had described the system. They had found themselves in a large room. Floating runes represented different aspects and traits. The winner had to purchase those runes and connect them on a special table to pin down the general abilities and traits of a species. Some combinations are powerful. Other less so. Mistakes had been made in the past. How else would one describe races like goblins?

Like golden leaves, layers of thin metal closed around Armas as the last participant overcame their hesitation. Soon there was no light and Armas found himself in darkness. A moment later he felt his body lifted upwards and then all corporeal feelings faded away.

This was it. The moment one of them would be chosen. Would design a new race and impose it one everyone in this circle. Gradually the feeling of his body returned and a pang of sadness shot through him. It meant that he hadn't been chosen. Someone else had redefined his destiny. He knew the odds had been against him. Still a small part of him had hoped he would be the chosen one. A belief he had shared with everyone here.

Eventually, the force that made him float in the air receded and his feet touched the ground. He nearly fell to his knees as he noticed his feet had changed. Standing strangely on his toes, but not quite as he couldn't feel those anymore. There was also something under his heel that lifted it up. Very curious to him.

The golden cocoon around him peeled away layer by layer and gradually more light found itself inside. What he saw made him gasp. The hand he held up was gleaming black. More slender as his original one. The skin had hardened into plates that smoothly transitioned from one to the next. It reminded him of the chitinous armor of insects.

Intrigued he looked down and nearly stumbled in shock. Small breasts with soft skin greeted him. Below them, the gleaming black armor returned. That this was impossible was his first thought. He still should be male no matter what race he transitioned into. Unless...

The last membrane of the cocoon receded and revealed ninety-nine other women in gleaming black armor. Some looked just as confused as Armas. He looked to the woman on his left and studied her. As she noticed she decided to do the same.

Her face was of angelic beauty and Armas reasoned he might look similar. Her skin only reached slightly below her shoulders. Her arms and hands were covered in the same hard shell that Armas possessed. Just like his, it reached up to the biceps.

Her breasts were on full display. Naked to everyone around. Below, a thin lip of the armor seemed to push her breasts upward. Now curious, Armas felt below his own breasts and felt the same hardened support slightly cupping his mounds. He also had to admit that brushing against his breasts felt really nice.

The woman beside Armas saw his exploration and mimicked it. This drew his attention to the woman's waist. It was clad in the same armor-like shell as his arms. More so it appeared to mimic those corsets noblewomen wore. Compressing their waist to something astonishingly small. In fact, as he let his hands glide downward he could span his waist with both. The term waspishly small came to his mind.

The corset-like portion of the armor thinned out in two strands that snaked down between her legs. Framed by them was the normal-looking vagina of a woman. Of course, Armas could conclude that the same equipment was between his legs. Yet he didn't dare to explore his own with his hands. At least, not yet.

Instead, he concentrated on her legs. Only her hips and upper tights were normal skin. Below, it looked like she was wearing boots with a shaft that reached up to her tights. Made from the same gleaming black material that covered their waist and arms.

Now he could see why he felt like standing on his toes. The woman feet were arched as if she was standing on hers. Yet were her toes should be her foot smoothed out into a wide rounded tip. Curiously enough this was not where her feet ended. There was a kind of platform beneath it. For a moment Armas was reminded of hooves, but the platform blended seamlessly into the rest of the foot as it was the same material.

Armas guessed it would be difficult to walk fluidly on his new raised feet. Maybe for that reason, a thorn-like protrusion extended from the heel to the ground. Offering a small but additional point of rest for the feet.

"Would you mind?" the woman asked in a soft melodic voice. It took Armas a moment to notice that she gestured for him to turn around. Nodding he did his best to tether on his new feet to turn around without falling. A few heartbeats later he heard: "Thanks. That's interesting. Look."

As Armas turned back he saw that the woman now showed her backside. Where two strands of the dark material vanished between her legs, a single one returned on her backside and grew wider till it merged again with the armor around the waist. What caught Armas interest were circular groves. One just above the buttock and four further up. He noticed that here the armor extended upwards to the shoulder blades.

With the first inspection done Armas tried to walk closer to the woman who helped him understand in what body he now lived. Each step on the stone floor gave a loud click that alerted the woman to him. As she turned back around one of her feet caught a crack in the weathered stone floor. Armas rushed to her and caught her just before she could lose her balance completely.

For a moment both rang with balance and gravity before they managed to stabilize themselves by clinging to each other.

"Thanks," she said in her melodic voice. Armas responded with a "Your welcome" of his own, but nearly at to stop to gasp. His voice was so alluring feminine that, had he still his old body, surely would have grown stiff between the legs. Even now, as the resonance traveled down his body, he felt slightly euphoric.

"Vilhelm," the woman offered along with one of her hands. The other never leaving Armas arm.

"A male name," Armas remarked. "Looks like you are in the same boat as I am. Armas. Also formerly male."

"I don't think we will be the only one. The chosen one really pulled a good one on us. Welcome to your new gender," Vilhelm offered with a lopsided grin.

"And to our new race," Armas added. "Whatever it may be called."

Somehow it felt right to hug and remain so. Arms around each others waist they looked around. They saw many others who had paired up or created small groups. All of them hugging or seeking skin contact with each other. Not far Armas spotted one who looked a little lost and without a partner.

After pointing with his chin Armas walked arm in arm with Vilhelm over to her. As he reached her he gently sneaked an arm around her waist and gently pulled her close. He could hear a sigh of relief and the woman leaned her head at his shoulder. "Thanks," she purred.

"Armas. And this is Vilhelm."

"Minja," she offered. "I never was good at these social things and now ... Why does it feel so good to hug each other?"

"I have no idea," Armas admitted. "Maybe we should ask her." With both arms busy holding the women close to him all he could was nodding into a general direction. There a woman confidently walked towards the center of the room. Two things struck Armas as odd. For one the woman walked as if she was born with those weird new feet. On the other hand, her gleaming armor wasn't black. Close. But not quite, as it had a touch red in it.

Their trio had made only a few steps towards her when the woman in very dark red addressed the room. "Please. Gather around," she half-shouted. Her voice strangely authoritative, yet with a hint of warmth in it. It reminded Armas of the woman who used to take care of the small children in his village.

Other groups got closer and as they came close enough Vilhelm even connected theirs to another trio who came close. Not that Armas minded. It felt good to have the others around.

"Now," the woman in the center continued. "As many of you may have guessed I was the chosen one to design our new race. To be honest I am still kind of in awe that it actually chose me. My name is Kiira and as the chosen one I used the powers given to me to the full extent. I know some might be confused. Or in a new gender."

Addressing the elephant in the room brought forth a few chuckles and many nods. Armas included.

" I apologize. Creating my vision took some compromises. My goal was ambitious and despite the compromises, I think I succeeded. In time I hope you will share my view and grow to love your new race."

She took a moment to let her gaze roam over the gathered ninety-nine people. Her new race and family. "Since I was small I was intrigued by insects. More so by those that create hives. These accomplish much in harmony with each other. While humans and other races often fall apart over small matters. That is why I drew inspiration from those hive building insects. I hope this will bring harmony to us in the future and with it peace."

Armas saw many nods around him and felt himself to nod along. He wasn't into insects, but so far he saw nothing icky on himself or others. In fact, he liked what he saw and even more what he felt lean against his body.

"One aspect you have probably guessed," she continued. "Hive insects are social in nature and so are we. Strength will be in numbers. As will be our comfort. We all will be a family. One you can depend on. After all, it is now in our nature." She stopped on a broad grin.

Next, she held up her arm and tapped with the other against the gleaming black part. "Physically we have some differences to other races. Our arms, legs, and waist are exoskeletal in nature. In them are organs that are so unique no other race has them. However, there is even more potential. Depending on your role in our new society your body can change. Adapt. Become more."

Armas noticed some murmuring around the circle. He was close to saying something too. A class-based system? Would he be stuck in one role for the rest of his life?

"Worry not," the chosen one said. "Yes, in those hive insect colonies roles are fixed for life. But the individuality we possess is a strength too. Therefore I did go with a blend of both. You will decide what your role will be and for how long. No one will be stuck as something that isn't close to their heart."

A sigh of relief escaped Armas. One of the reasons he was here was to escape such fate. He was the son of a farmer. In a line of farmers. It would have been his future too if he hadn't decided to risk it all. It brought him to the here and now. To a female body inspired by insects. Still, he felt no regret. Not yet anyway. Hopefully never.

"As you can see my exoskeleton has a red tinge. This means I shifted in the matron role. To teach and to lead. Despite having created this race I am looking forward to assuming other roles and to see some of you taking on the mantle of matron."

In a wide gesture, she pointed to her new flock. "You are right now in a neutral role. Your body fit to do many tasks. The first role I want to teach is the gatherer. To activate it look at your own exoskeleton and try to imagine it in the color of dark blue."

Not seeing a reason to not comply Armas lifted his arm away from Minja - feeling a short moment of regret for the lost body contact - and tried his best to envision the change. It worked sort of after a few moments. Parts of his armor turned to a deep and dark royal blue. However, instead of a uniform color change, only stripes of it turned towards blue. Looking around Armas saw the same patterns on others. It reminded him of bees and wasps. As he looked the last few managed the change. Satisfied that he was in accordance with the rest Armas let his arm fall around Minja again.

"Good. Very good," Kiira praised. "As your body adjusts to the role the color will grow stronger and brighter."

"Could we use the same method to turn into a matron," one daring woman asked.

"Of course," Kiira said with a bright smile. "It is your decision what role you take. Including matron. However, I ask of you to please remain a gatherer for now. There is much to teach and many roles. I hope to shift each and everyone through every role so you can find the one best suited for you not only based on knowledge but also experience."

This certainly made sense to Armas. The only person knowing all the kinks and traits of their species was the one who created it.

"Now, in a moment we will show ourselves to the world," the matron announced. "I noticed some of you are still a bit shaky on your legs. You might want to take the opportunity to train walking a little. After all, we want to present us as gracefully and not as clumsy. Before you do there is one trait I want to teach you that might help."

Grinning she leaned forward. Impossibly so as her body stood from the ankles upward at a forty-five-degree angle. She managed to turn herself upright again and smiled seeing the astonished faces of those around her. "Our feet might look impractical, but the truth is quite the opposite. As I said our feet - our hands as well - contain new organs. One allows us to use magic to root us in place."

Seeing that she had the undivided attention she continued. "In fact, as the magic anchors us we can do more." She lifted up her right foot a few inches and angled it as if she wanted to stand on tiptoes - if she still had them - and then lifted the second foot as well. Gasps could be heard as she appeared to be floating on air. "I am not flying or levitating. Each foot projects an invisible spike of magic that penetrates the ground and roots us there. How much of this spike we sink in the ground is up to us. If we leave some of it outside we appear to be floating. Go ahead. Try it out. Get used to your new feet."

The groups broke up and Armas - along with Vilhelm and Minja took a spot with enough room to practice. Minja was the fastest to master walking with these arched feet. She claimed it helped that she was a woman before and the required walking was similar to hers before. Shrugging he tried to copy her walk. It resulted in more wiggling of his butt as he adjusted his steps so they came down on an invisible line.

Vilhelm was one of the last who managed to get a hang of it. Not just of their trio but of all hundred. When he finally got the hang of it Armas and Minja rewarded him with a big hug that never ended. Together they watched the progress of those around them.

"Great!" Kiira - the matron - exclaimed. "Now it is time. Let's present us to the world!"

Cheers erupted around her and to his surprise Armas was one of those. This was it. What he had wanted. Be done with his boring old life and something new was beginning. Something exciting. As Kiira walked to the big double doors - that dominated one end of the big room - her new race followed her. Thirty-three trios. Elegantly strutting towards the future.

A slight push and the heavy doors opened by itself. Behind them, two rows of attendants waited patiently. They maintained the artifact of the ancients as well helped guide newly transitioned races. Their training included the iron will to not judge new races. To remain indifferent and calm. Still, as Armas looked over them, he heard gasps. He also saw women blushing and the pants of men grow tight in the crotch area. Apparently, they were more beautiful than Armas had thought himself. Still, he found it strange that he could spot at once that every male attendant had a stiff boner.

"Welcome new race," an older attendant spoke up. Armas remembered him from before when he had come to this temple dedicated to the artifact. "May I ask who was the chosen one and what will be the name of the one hundredth and seventh race that the artifact created?"

"I am matron Kiira," she said while stepping confidently forward. "And our race has no name yet. I chose every aspect of my new race, but I wanted to share at least one decision with my new family."

It was a small thing. To give something a name. But Kiira's choice to share this with them somehow was touching to Armas's heart.

"We are happy to assist in any way," the old man replied with a warm smile. "Perhaps we should start with clothing?"

Armas blushed deeply as he only now was reminded that he was indeed naked. His breasts and new sex open for the world to see. He remembered wearing clothes when he entered the artifact. Not that he really cared what happened to them.

"If you insist," Kiira replied with a mischievous grin. "After donning cloth and getting our valuables I ask of you to escort us to the field with the tall grass I saw on the way to this temple. I like to teach my family something useful there. Afterward, I hope to get your help in choosing a new home for us."

"Certainly," the head attendant replied and gestured to table with clothing in them.

This new home intrigued Armas. A new race normally offered new products, wares, and services. It usually meant a boost in trades where they settled. Therefore many kingdoms, colonies, and provinces offered land for those new races.

Armas trio stepped closer to one of the tables and together they viewed the offered clothing. First tries proved that pants and trousers were not practical with their new feet. Skirts were the next best thing and looking around Armas spotted already a few dozen who stepped into them.

Shrugging he did the same and Vilhelm next to him spoke aloud what Armas thought. "Never would have guessed I would be wearing skirts by choice." Earning a chuckle from Minja and Armas.

To cover their chest was an altogether different debacle. Most shirts proofed to be way too loose. Shifting with each step Armas took. Even more distracting was the coarse material gliding over his breasts and nipples. Soon he spotted a woolen poncho. A garment that was created after one race was created with four arms. It fit a lot better and Armas liked how it looked. Still, soon he was scratching his chest as the wool irritated his skin.

Putting the poncho aside he grabbed for a silken scarf and let it glide over his skin. This felt a lot better. So much in fact that he noticed his nipples grew hard. However, tying it around his chest was more difficult than he anticipated. The slippery material shifted easily and came undone fast.

For a moment he contemplated the dilemma while holding the poncho in one hand and the silken scarf in the other. An idea blossomed in his mind. He stepped close to a female attendant.

"How can I help?" she asked politely.

"I heard attendants of this temple know how to sew, right? To fit clothing for more unconventional races," Armas ventured.

"That is correct. Which of the garments need fitting? Or do you want both adjusted?"

Armas held up the poncho. "I like this design, but not the cloth. Could you change this scarf in its image?"

The woman took both items from him and gave it a critical look. "Of course, but the scarf is a lot smaller. It might not cover as much."

"As long as it covers these," Armas said with a grin and pointing to his breasts. That earned him a flustered attendant who quickly did go to work. With practiced hands, she cut a hole in the middle of the scarf and secured the edges.

As she handed it back to Armas he suddenly felt a little put on the spot. Several others of his race beside Vilhelm and Minja got curious about what he was up to. The new silken poncho fit nicely yet reached only just below his breasts. Still, it was an improvement.

"I think something is missing," the attendant remarked. She fiddled with the sides and now Armas noticed what she was up to. The right angle and anyone could still see his breasts. The solution was four strings she sewed on - two under each armpit - that could be tied together and close the side slits somewhat.

The resulting garment was comfortable, yet helped Armas to remain decent. Vilhelm and Minja remarked as much and soon hunted for silken scarfs of their own that they wanted to be remodeled. The idea caught on so fast that Armas had trouble to snatch a matching scarf that he had to be remade into a matching skirt.

It took an hour or two, but by then every one of his race was dressed the same. A short silken poncho that just reached below the breasts and a matching silken skirt or loincloth. The sight elated Armas. Yes, they all looked beautiful dressed like this, but there was something else that made him proud. Never in his life so far he had contributed anything to society. Something that changed it. And here he was. A few hours into living as his new race and he might have more or less by accident designed the outfits best suited for them.

"I see we are all ready and dressed," matron Kiira remarked loud enough that everyone could hear her. All eyes turned to her and Armas noticed how elegant she looked in a deep red poncho-top and a matching skirt. "If some of you feel peckish by now then good for you. It is time we grab a bite, don't you think?"

They all were shepherded outside and Armas linked arms with Vilhelm and Minja. A little surprised how inseparable they were after only knowing each other for a few hours.

At the door, matron Kiira waited and when she spotted Armas she gave him a bright smile. "Nice work with the tops," she cheerfully complimented. "I hope you have more ideas along the way." She winked at him and strutted out towards the others.

"I also like this one design feature," Minja whispered into his ear. Her hand sneaked below the seam of his silken poncho were it was pushed away from his skin by his voluminous breasts. There she let her finger glide over his sensitive skin. Making him shudder in delight.

He quickly caught himself and played it cool. "All by design," he lied. Still, he couldn't help but give her breasts a gentle swish too. Earning him a small moan from her.

They found themselves in the locker area. Here they had deposited a few private belongings before taking their journey towards a new race. For Armas, it was a small backpack. Filled with a few small carved figurines out of wood. Made by his late grandfather. It also contained a small carving knife and a few coins. Not much. He wanted a new start in life and he figured mementos of his old ones might only hinder him. Still, a few he couldn't part with.

Minja had a big satchel. She saw his curious look and showed him the content without comment. He saw two books, paper and ink. A few small potions or tonics, and some small cloth.

"Oh my," came the exclamation from Vilhelm. He heaved up a big leather bedroll and a mighty bow. Both easily larger than him. The bedroll alone might fit all three of them. "I didn't realize how much smaller I am now."

It was Minja who first made the connection. "You were the big northerner, right? You used to be what? Eight feet tall?"

"Close to nine," he admitted shyly and with a blush. "How am I supposed to carry this?"

"By relying on your new family," Armas softly said. "Let's try it like this." He pulled both of them close to him by grabbing their waists. As they once again made a trio they lifted the strap of the bedroll over Armas and Vilhelm's head so they both carried the heavy object. The bow was slung over Armas and Minja's head.

"Now you are trapped between us," Minja remarked with a devilish grin.

"Wouldn't want it any other way," Armas retorted with a grin of his own.

Together they set out and joined the others. They had to blink a few times as the sun greeted them.

"Wasn't it an evening when we walked inside?" Vilhelm asked.

"I heard the designing of the race takes time," Armas said. "We must have skipped this without knowing. It might have been days since we started this journey together."

The whole group walked down a well-used path that was still only cleared dirt. Few of them lost their footing, but none fell. For one they were supported by each other and they all noticed it became easier once they learned how to anchor themselves with magic. Armas was surprised how easy and fast this worked. Soon it became a reflex to anchor his foot when it touched the ground and release it when he wanted to lift it.

This training was valuable as they reached a big field. The grass was tall and grew up to the girl's chests. Some even had to giggle as some blades of tall grass managed to find their way below their poncho-top and tickled their breasts. Armas found himself nearly buckling as someone used some soft fern to tickle his underside. He looked at Minja in accusation, but she pointed at Vilhelm who quickly dropped the evidence.

"I will get back at you both," he promised them with a shake of his head and a grin.

Matron Kiira stopped in the middle of the field where the grass was slightly shorter. Only reaching to their hips. There she waited for all to gather in a lazy half-circle. "As I said before those parts covered by your exoskeleton contain new organs. Or modified ones. In this case, our stomach is now one of the most robust in the world. Resistant to most poisons we can eat nearly everything organic."

She scooped up a bale of grass and pulled it out of the earth. She twisted it to break off a smaller part and - to the shock of everyone around - lifted it to her mouth to munch on it. After she had swallowed a few helpings she grinned. "Even grass. We not only can eat it to sustain ourselves but also prosper on it. Give it a try."

"You expect us to eat grass?" one baffled woman asked.

"I am trying to make a point," she said with a grin. She looked around and spotted a pinecone on the ground. "Want a better example?" With a grin, she swallowed the whole pinecone in one gulp. They could see how it dented out her throat as it traveled down as one whole piece. "Wow," the matron said with a surprised look on her face that rivaled those around her. "That tasted better than I would have thought."

Now curious Armas grabbed some grass for himself. "Armas don't," Minja started but it was too late. Sure enough, he tasted the grass. But there was more. Subtle flavors and textures he hadn't thought possible. It was if his mouth had learned to detect new undercurrents of taste.

"She is right," he admitted out loud. "This is better than it should be."

More and more got gripped by curiosity. Soon everyone was munching on grass.

"Now before we can begin the next part I need you all to eat," matron Kiira said into the round. "A lot," she added with a grin.

Armas trio pretty much shrugged and looked for a nice spot. There they unburdened themselves of their belongings. The rolled-out leather bedroll of Vilhelm made a nice little blanket for them. Looking at it Armas though it might just be big enough for all of them.

Armas was the first of his trio to try swallowing a pinecone. It tasted like wood, yet had a lot tangy flavor beneath it. It also amazed him that stretching his throat like that didn't hurt him. He wondered what the biggest thing was he now could swallow.

"Armas. Vilhelm. You have to try these," Minja shouted while running towards them. How she already managed that with her new feet was beyond Armas. She pushed a bunch of dandelions in each of their hands and the first taste proofed Minja right. This was superb. Soon all three would wander through the grass - while eating some of it - and hunt for flowers. When they got enough of one type they enjoyed the taste together.

"Never thought I say this, but flowers do taste the best," Armas remarked and earned grins from his two companions.

Maybe an hour later - and who knew how much grass - Armas was fiddling with the strings that held his silken poncho together. He was redoing the knots for the third time as the poncho had grown tight around his chest. Then it dawned to him. His suspicions confirmed as he looked towards Minja and Vilhelm.

"Oh my! Guys look. Our breasts have grown huge."

Each their assets had easily doubled. A little concerned they decided to ask matron Kiira about it. They made their way back and found that the half-circle was slowly reforming around her. It turned out they weren't' the only ones with grown breasts. Not even the ones with the biggest. The smallest pair was those of Kiira and even they looked magnificent.

As all had gathered matron Kiira gave a short laugh. "With such a small waist were do you expect it would go?" This earned her a few laughs. "No. Seriously. This is normal. At least for us. You might have noticed that I haven't grown as big as you are. That is because you all are gatherers." Now Kiira pushed her poncho top up to expose her breasts." Someone was whistling in appreciation. Earning chuckles and a curtsy from Kiira.

"Now. We are not only ferociously eaters if we want to," matron Kiira continued. "We are also very good at utilizing food and even producing it. Our stomach also uses magic to digest what we ate and drank. And here is the thing. All of it. We won't produce any waste. That is right. No more outhouse use for us."

That got her some clapping of hands.

"But there is more. Right now you all ate above what your body needs in a day. What you don't need your body stores away. No. Not as your breasts despite how big they look like."

She started to massage her breasts and even moaned a little. Earning her confused looks all around. Then some thick translucent green liquid poured out of her nipples. She stopped to scoop it up with a finger and presented it to the group. "Bees produce honey. We produce this jelly. It is very nutritious and won't spoil easily." She licked her finger clean and let out another moan. "And it even tastes better than grass or pinecones."

There was stunned silence till Minja shouted: "I've got to try this!" Armas expected her to grab her breasts but her hands shot to his own breasts. His legs buckled. When had his breasts become so sensitive? Minja milked him with an intensity that surprised him.

Soon he felt warm liquid pouring out of him and Minja did go directly for the source. Her warm tongue made him shudder in delight, but the contact was short as Minja leaned back with a moan. "Tastes amazing," she half-whispered. Her finger brushed Armas nipple and presented it to him. Aroused as he was he didn't hesitate. His mouth closed around her finger and he tasted his own jelly. Grass. He could taste it. But also the pinecone and the flowers. It was a medley of everything he had eaten in the past hour.

"I've got to taste yours too," he breathed heavily.

However, Minja swatted away his hand. "First we try his." Pointing at Vilhelm. With a yelp he did go under as both - Armas and Minja pounced on him.

Soon they took turns milking and sampling each other. How they managed to later wind up at the bedroll none of the three could say. But their playing with each other soon turned sexual and they started to grind at each other. After a few rounds exhaustion took over and all three fell asleep in each other's arms.

*****

Armas woke up a few hours later as the sun was maybe a handspan away from setting. His shifting woke up the other two and together they found out the next surprise. Not that around them nests of other groups spoke of other orgies. Sitting up proofed difficult as their breasts had grown even larger than before.

As they stood up matron Kiira walked over. "Had fun?" she asked and got three blushing faces in return. "Follow me if you want relief of those big heavy assets of yours."

She walked away and with a shrug, all three followed. While they walked Kiira explained more. "You see when our stomach digests it uses mana to enrich the jelly. That means it is slightly more in substance than the original food was. Now when you eat jelly you ask your stomach to digest something that is already dense in substance. The result is that even more jelly is produced."

They left the field and found themselves on the small dirt path again. A few feet further they saw a dozen of their race surrounded by small clay pots. Blood shot to his face as he saw what they were doing. Sitting in small groups they milked each other and filled those pots.

"At this rate, I may have to ask the attendants for more pots," Kiira mused to herself. Then she turned around to Armas trio. "Feel free to relief as much pressure as you like."

With a wave, she turned around and walked back into the field.

"This day turned out to be stranger than I would have thought," Armas admitted.

"Regrets?" Minja softly asked.

A sheepish grin snuck on his face. "Not even a little. So. Who gets to be milked first?"

Minja gave a theatrical "hmm" and Armas followed her gaze. Vilhelm was entranced by the sight before him of beauties who massaged each other's breasts. With a wink, Minja walked over and grabbed Vilhelm by the waist. Armas joined a second later. "Why only watch?" he whispered. "When you can feel it?"

Together they helped Vilhelm to a stone and a waiting pot.

*****

The cart made its way down to the port in a slow but steady pace. It was one of many and Armas shared this one with Vilhelm and Mirja. Which was fitting given what they shared so far. After an extensive milking session, they had shared the night in Vilhelm's bedroll. Turns out Armas had been right with his suspicion. The bedroll did fit them all if they snuggled close to each other. This, no one minded.

Now they were on the way to the port where a ship would take them to their new home. Kiira had admitted that Armas had played a role where they will be settling. Apparently, their silken garments inspired her to chose an offer that promised them land in a kingdom that produced silk. Given the nature of his new very sensible breasts, Armas was glad to hear this decision. Silk can be expensive if it has to travel far.

His gaze drifted to the many pots that were stacked beside them in the cart. Provision Kiira called these as all were filled to the brim with jelly. He had to chuckle as he had to admit to himself that those are the tastiest provisions he ever had.

"What's on your mind?"

The question made Armas look up to Minja who studied his face. Should he tell her about the absurdity of admitting that he might get addicted to jelly made by his own body? Better not. Instead, he chose a topic that was on his mind for a while.

"Need a new name," he volunteered. "The last thing from my old life, but hardly fitting anymore."

"I've been thinking about that too," Vilhelm admitted.

"Any closer candidates?" Minja asked.

"I am bad with names," Vilhelm replied with a sigh.

"Can't be that bad," Armas tried to cheer him up.

Vilhelm, in turn, touched his bow. "Where I come from every hunter has one trusted bow. Their lives depend on it more than you might guess. In turn, the hunters name their bow. Heartseeker. Silent death. Old oak. Stuff like that. Do you know how I named mine?"

Both shook their head.

"Vilhelm's bow," he said with a sad lopsided grin.

"Maybe look at it this way. How would you called her if you had a daughter?" Armas asked. At once Vilhelm twitched as if he had been slapped.

"Sorry," Vilhelm said to them as he saw their concerned faces. "That's a painful topic for me. You see I have given up on having a son or daughter." He remained silent for a moment, but Armas and Minja felt he wanted and needed to say more.

"You saw how big I was. That counted for everything about me. You know the saying 'hung like a horse' right? Well for me it was sadly true. One girl that I liked dared to become intimate with me." He shook his head blinking away tears. "It was so painful she couldn't take it. After that, I couldn't imagine hurting another woman just to have offspring or pleasure. To be honest, this played a huge part in why I am here. I hoped to be smaller." He gave them a brave lopsided grin. "Wish granted I guess."

Armas and Minja scooted over to give Vilhelm the hug he needed. It took a while till someone dared to say something.

"We have to ask Kiira," Minja mused. "We may be an all-female race, but somehow we have to procreate. Maybe you can still have a daughter."

"I hope so," Vilhelm said while brushing away the last tears.

"Meanwhile let's find a name that fits a mother to be," Armas suggested and earned smiles from his companions.

"How about Kirsi?" Minja suggested.

"Kaisla?" Armas volunteered.

"Karina?"

"You know Kiira is already taken," Vilhelm said with a laugh. Earning him confused looks. "You seem to be eager to name me something starting with a K."

After they shared a chuckle Minja was right back at it. "How about Mari? Or Pilvi?"

"I like Mari," Vilhelm admitted. "You think that fits the new me?"

"Sure," Armas said but added shortly after. "I still like the name Karina though. Hmm. Mind if I take it?"

"Not at all, Karina. After all, I don't need two names, right?"

"You are right, Mari," Armas - now Karina - agreed with her.

"Great," Minja exclaimed. "To be honest it was getting strange calling you both by male names."

All chuckled and hugged each other. For the rest of the way to the port, they did some small talk and shared some of their past. Always eager to use the new names for Mari and Karina.

To be continued...