
"Hey Doc." Percy Slygh said, forcing a cheery grin.

"Hi Percy. How are you feeling?" Tom Black, his doctor asked.

"Not great. I fell three times this week. I think I'm going to start
slurring my words soon." Percy said, thinking back to the progression of
symptoms that Dr. Black had first laid out for him when he learned that
he had the Winston Virus. "Then my brain will start to dissolve and not
even making it off the waiting list will be enough to help me." He said
morosely.

"Remember what we talked about. It is important not to give up hope.
Your mental state can have a huge impact on your medical outcome. I've
had plenty of patients worse off than you who manage to make a full
recovery." Tom said.

"You're right. I just don't see a way that I'm going to make it off the
list in time. I'm trying to look on the bright side though. There is a lot
of stuff I've been able to do now that I stopped working."

"That's good. Now let's take a look at you." Tom said. He proceeded to poke
and prod at Percy, noting how much weight he had lost, feeling his swollen
glands, and asking Percy to hold a vial of holy water. Privately, he thought
that Percy was in a pretty bad way. He doubted if the man would be able to
walk in a week as the neurodegenerative disease ate away at him from the inside.

"I'm going to double your dosage." Tom said.

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"It is, but not doing so would be even more dangerous at this point. The
viral aspect of the disease is fairly well controlled, but the curse is
getting pretty bad. Once the curse reaches a high enough level, the virus
will become much more resistant. We need to ramp up your dosage now to
try to beat back the virus while we still can."

Percy looked down. He didn't want to die, but at just 28 years old, it seemed
like he was about to. "There isn't any other way to break the curse? I would
do pretty much anything at this point." He wanted to ask about blood magic, but
that was illegal and he didn't want to ask that of his doctor.

Tom thought. With things degenerating this fast, he no longer saw any
alternative but to bring Mary up. "Well, there is one possibility, but it
comes with some pretty significant risks."

Percy visibly grew more energetic. He had all but resigned himself to succumbing
to the disease. His only hope was to meet a woman who was infected and bond with
her in the next couple of days, and the possibility of that was vanishingly low.
The Winston Virus was relatively rare, and even rarer in women than in men.
"Tell me." He demanded.

"I know a carrier of the disease who might be able to help you."

"I don't understand, I thought carriers were asymptomatic?" Percy said.

"She is not a pure carrier, but she has never experienced any of the ill
effects of the disease, though she does lactate and is able to form bonds
with infected men. She has managed to cure hundreds of men by bonding with
them over the years." Tom explained.

"Why wasn't she cured after her first bonding?" Percy asked when a woman with
the Winston Virus bonded with a man their infections interacted and cured
each other, though the interaction could occasionally prove fatal to the man.

"We don't really understand it. There is no one else who has displayed her
unique symptoms. Many researchers have tried to figure out her condition to
see if it can be turned into a more general cure, but so far there has been
no luck."

"Why didn't you tell me about her earlier? Is she already bonded to someone
right now?"

"Well, over the years her bondings have accelerated until now they usually
play out in minutes."

"Wait, so you are telling me she can cure infected men in minutes? How come
there is a waiting list at all?"

Tom paused, "Unfortunately, the men who bond with her have a very high
absorption rate. Over 90% I'm afraid."

Percy felt like he had been punched in the guts. He had gone from thinking
he had an 80% chance of living to having only a one in ten chance of survival.
It was still better than the guaranteed death he had been sliding towards,
but not something to be too upbeat about. "Where do I sign up?" He asked.
He knew he didn't have much time.

================================================================================

Mary peered down at the earring she was holding beneath the heavy magnification
of her desk mounted lens. To her artificer's eyes the network of power woven
through and around the object was plainly evident. On the surface it looked
like a simple protective enchantment, but whoever had etched the words of
power into the little bauble had incorporated a sinister little bit of mind
magic which would worry away at the wearer. These things had started popping
up a few months back, and the police had turned to Mary to help understand
the devices.

In order to prevent the nasty little thing from phoning home, Mary enveloped
it in a smothering blanket of power and began slowly teasing the spell apart.
She eventually isolated a kernel of the essence of the spell caster and gave
a satisfied little grin. No other mage could trace someone with something
so tiny, but Mary was an extraordinary even among the hundred or so archmages
alive. Every time a woman infected with the Winston Virus absorbed a man
she gained his magical ability. No other woman had absorbed more than one
man, but Mary had absorbed tens of thousands. To call her an archmage actually
grossly understated her power. Runes sprung into being around her and she
saw a perfect path to the creator of the earrings. She committed the vision
to a memory jewel and snapped her fingers, sending it off to the police
headquarters.

It was almost time for her near daily visitation from a cohort of men who
had not managed to make it off the waiting list for bonding. No one knew
why there was such a gender imbalance in the way the cursed virus infected
fully three times as many men as women. That meant a third of infected men
were able to bond with women, but nearly two thirds ended up coming to Mary.
Despite being the most powerful mage alive, Mary lead a fairly private life
in part because she didn't want to draw attention to the fact that thousands
of sick men had died to grant her her abilities.

Getting up from her work bench, Mary walked over to her full length mirror
to make sure she looked her best. She was the last thing most of these guys
were going to see, and she felt she owed it to them to make their final
moments enjoyable. By the end most of them were grateful for the chance to
provide their own small contribution to her perfection. Looking at the mirror,
Mary felt confident that that perfection was on full display tonight.

Her long luscious legs were clad in a pair of tight blue jeans which clung
to her like a second skin and strained around her ripe bubble butt. Her
haunting face was framed by a riot of flaming red hair which tumbled down
around her shoulders in a tousled waterfall. A thin dark blue sweater clung
to her bosom and upper arms. It only extended for a few inches along her
torso beneath her breasts, so her perfectly flat tummy and tiny waist was on
full display, though both were thrown into shadow by the sheer mass of her
bosom. Three large black buttons held her top closed, but there were visible
strain lines around each as the top had not been designed with basketball
sized breasts in mind. Mary pursed her lips, slid her hands over her
chest and adjusted the neckline to expose a few more inches of breast flesh.
The swooping U-neck already exposed enough peaches and cream cleavage to drown
in. Once she was satisfied with her top, she turned sideways and examined
the way her ass looked in her jeans. Mary had looked like this for the last
160 years, but she was still continually struck by her own overwhelming sex
appeal.

For the first ten years after Mary was infected, her body had changed every
time she absorbed someone new. Each time a man dwindled away to nothing
she swelled out ever so slightly, grew ever so slightly taller, until by
the age of 28 she had reached her current stupendous dimensions of 5'10"
with a 34R cup bust, a 28 inch waist and 44 inch hips. With every inch
her milk filled bust and ripening ass added, her effect on men grew stronger.
In her youth, she had been worried that this was mind magic that was part of
the curse, but she eventually realized that it was just the result of her
incredible beauty. When an infected man saw her there *was* mind magic
in play however, and if ordinary men found her nearly irresistible,
infected men were completely helpless before her charms.

Deciding she was ready, Mary waved her hand and the doors to her office
opened up. Six men were waiting in the sitting room outside. They had
been let in and taken care of by the extensive enchantments on Mary's
house.

Percy filed in along with the five other men who had been waiting. He had
had take a few courses in magic in school, so he sensed enough of the flare
of power which opened the door to realize that the door had no spell worked
into it. Opening a door without a pre-existing enchantment to leverage was
out of reach for the vast majority of the population, and was a decadent
waste of power even for a professional mage. When Dr. Black had mentioned
that Mary was a professional artificer, he had assumed that she was strong
due to her constant absorptions, but this casual, almost wasteful, display
of magical power made him realize just how strong she must be. Women infected
with the Winston Virus gained the magical and physical strength of the men
they absorbed, and if Mary had been treating around six men a day for even
a year that would have made her unimaginably powerful.

Percy's speculation about her power stopped abruptly when he actually laid
eyes on Mary Redding. She looked young, somewhere in her mid twenties if he
had to guess. Despite the youthful vigor which seemed to be dripping out of
every pore, he thought she might be a bit older than she looked, though he
didn't suspect the truth - that she was fast approaching her 200th birthday.
His attention skittered over her body, trying to decide which part of her
was most incredible. Her legs, hips, waist, hair, and face all would have
been enough to leave him gobsmaked on their own, but it was her incredible
bosom which he kept returning to. In the waiting room he had been worried
that she wouldn't have enough milk to treat all six of them, but in the
face of the reality of her chest that concern seemed ridiculous. He felt
his mouth watering already.

Mary walked over towards the six men who had just entered her office, her
every footfall causing her breasts to jiggle hypnotically. They didn't say
anything as she approached. She knew they were too entranced by her beauty
to take any active role in things at this point. "You and you. Come here."
She said, pointing to the two closest men.

Percy was a disappointed that she hadn't chosen him, but all he could do
was watch as she slowly unbuttoned her top and shrugged out of it to reveal
a low cut lacy black bra. Her massive melons squished together enticingly
as she reached behind herself and pulled on the band to unhook. She let
it slide off of her and stood before them bare chested. Percy was struck by
a wave of hunger and lust so powerful it drove him to his knees. All he wanted
to do was slid one of those large pink nipples into mouth and suckle.

The first two men approached Mary and let her guide their mouths to her
bosom by placing one hand on the back of each of their heads. The busty mage
let down her milk and the two sick men began to desperately gulp it down.
It wasn't long before it became clear which way their treatments would
go. With every drop of milk which passed their lips, they noticeably shrank.
Mary's breasts swelled even larger as mass from the two men flowed into her,
but they soon stabilized as they transfered the mass to the rest of her body,
causing her muscles to swell and twitch as they converted it to strength.
At 343 pounds, Mary was a bit denser than an ordinary human because of her
hyper strong super dense muscles, but she was still quite a bit lighter
than all the men she had ever absorbed combined. Her weight had stopped
climbing at the same time her bust stopped expanding, but her strength
had kept right on growing.

Percy watched as the two men grew too small for their clothes, soon causing
their pants to fall down around their feet in pools. Mary reached down and
cupped their butts to give them support as their feet lifted off the floor.
The experience seemed to be pleasurable for her because she was biting her
lower lip, and Percy could see the flush of arousal creeping up her cheeks.
Instead of feeling fear or horror as he watched the two men get absorbed,
his overriding emotion was jealousy. He knew that it was just the virus
messing with his mind, but he still couldn't help but wish that he was the
one getting sucked up by Mary's greedy breasts. Looking at her perfection,
he felt it was his purpose to become part of it. How could he do better in
life than making Mary even greater?

The two men were the size of her breasts now, and Mary let out an involuntary
moan. As always, she felt guilty for enjoying this so much, but it was just
how her body worked. Waves of pleasure spread out from her breasts and suffused
her entire body. She had never felt anything which compared with the pleasure of
absorbing a man. She was honestly rather addicted to the experience. The two men
where now almost small enough to fit in her hands, their jaws warped around
her nipples and their skin already going tacky. She pressed them hard against
herself, causing the flesh of her breasts to surge forward around them like
an onrushing tide. When she withdrew her hands a minute later they were gone.
Her breasts rapidly shrank down to the size they had been before she started
absorbing the men and the powerful muscles in her legs gave a few final
twitches.

As always, Mary felt guilty that she had just enjoyed erasing the two men
from existence, but it was a vague perfunctory sort of guilt. She had been
absorbing men for the last 170 years, and it had long since started to feel
like the way the world ought to work. She was attempting to cure these men.
Sometimes it worked, but more often they paid for the privilege by granting
the voluptuous red head even more strength, magical power, and youthful
vigor. Really, they were lucky. Most people who died didn't get the chance
to make their deaths count for something, and as far as Mary was concerned
the men who got gobbled up by her greedy boobs counted for quite a bit.

"You two." Mary said pointing to another two men.

Again, Percy watched with jealousy as two other men were allowed to
step forward and bend over to suckle on Mary's massive melons. At this
point he had given up any hope of being cured, but somehow that excited
him. A woman as perfect as Mary deserved to suck him up. He was a nobody,
and looking at her ripe curves and flawless visage he felt proud that
he would soon be able to become part of her. He knew it was his viral
curse messing with his head, making him feel submissive and eager to be
absorbed, but he didn't care.

Just like the first two men, the second pair rapidly started to shrink
while Mary's bust swelled and her muscles bulged and contracted. It wasn't
long before she was holding them up in order to prevent them from detaching
from her ravenous bust. The pleasure of this second absorption was obviously
building on that of the first because she was more visibly aroused. Her low
moans of pleasure and spreading flush stoked Percy's own arousal, and he could
feel himself growing painfully hard.

Finally, Mary finished consuming the second pair of men and beckoned Percy
and the other man forward. As he approached, Percy's arousal built to a
crescendo. The closer he got to the massive breasts which would likely
be his doom the more awe he felt. They were the most majestic things he
had ever seen in his life. Nipples an inch thick and two inches long
projected out from aureoles the size of drink coasters, but compared with
the overwhelming mass of Mary's breasts both still managed to look small.
After he bent over and took her nipple in his mouth, he felt a hand press
the back of his head firmly into her. It caused her pliant bosom to surge
forward around him, covering his face in the hot flesh of her breast.

The first drop of milk which touched his lips electrified Percy. It was
by far the best thing he had ever tasted. There seemed to be a direct
line between his lips and his cock, because his straining member started
to twitch almost as soon as Mary's milk made contact. His awareness
shrank to his spasming balls and his mouth as he gulped milk down
greedily. He was sure he was shrinking, being sucked up into Mary's
chest even now, but he didn't care.

To Percy's profound surprise, Mary pushed him away. "Congratulations!"
She said happily. "You're cured!"

"I-I'm what?" Percy said, feeling disappointed. He had missed his chance to
offer himself up in the name of Mary's greatness.

"Cured! This is a good thing remember?" Mary said. Very few of the men who
survived her treatments were initially happy to have done so, as the curse
made them eager to merge with her body.

"Y-yeah. Cured." Percy said dejectedly. Instead of a glorious union with
the perfect woman standing in front of him, Percy had been left behind.
Now he just stood before her dejectedly with a cum stain slowly spreading
on his pants. "I wish I wasn't."

"Don't say that." Mary chided.

Her bra floated up from where it had been discarded on the floor and
slid over her outstretched arms. It was only a demi-cup bra, though the
the massive cups would have easily swamped most other women's chests.
Mary arranged her breasts within the cups of the garment, smoothing and
pressing the fabric around her warm breast flesh in motions that set
her chest to jiggling and surging up to form massive cleavage. Percy
just stared, unable to look away. "Y-you're perfect. It's not fair
that I didn't get absorbed." He said.

"That's just the curse talking. You'll be glad to have survived soon
enough. I can already see the curse breaking up and leaving you behind
forever. You're safe now." Mary said, raising her arms above her head so
that her micro sweater could float up and slid back down over her
outstretched limbs.

"Can't you just use magic to absorb me anyway? You can activate the
curse on purpose right?" Percy demanded, now fixated on Mary sucking
him up.

Sighed as she started to button up her sweater. "I could, but I'm not
going to. I'll tell you what: if you are still feeling this way tomorrow
when the curse has totally worn off, you can call me."

Percy nodded in dejected acquiescence, and tried to commit the scene
to memory. He was not likely to see anything even remotely as beautiful
in his life. Mary was pulling her sweater ever tighter as she worked
her way up the line of buttons. Her red hair hung down from her bent over
head in twin curtains on either side of her peaches and cream cleavage.
The sweater clung to the tops of her arms, the cuffs ending around the middle
of biceps. In the shadow of her breasts, her tiny waist and flat tummy stood
in stark contrast to her wide, fertile hips. Her jeans strained over long legs,
juicy thighs and powerful calves making the denim seem to be on the verge of
bursting.

She finished buttoning up her sweater and looked up at him, her large blue
eyes staring out at him and making him feel exposed. He felt a flush spread
as he realized how obvious his ogling had been, "S-sorry." He stammered.

Mary laughed, "Oh, I don't mind. Look all you want, I don't have anything
to be ashamed of."

"No you don't." Percy said seriously. Mary preened a little at the reverence
in his voice. She knew she was stupid hot, but she still enjoyed hearing
about it.

Mary swept out of her office and Percy trailed after her. He fell into place
a few paces behind her, which was the perfect place to appreciate the way
her massive ass swayed back and forth with her every step. Mary's incredible
sex appeal was every bit as strong for ass men as it was to breast men.

Eventually they reached the door, which Mary held open for him. "Hey, chin
up. You'll feel better in no time." The sexy mage said to Percy as he
went out the door looking like someone had just run over his dog.

================================================================================

The next day Mary got up at 4 a.m., as was her habit, and went to her forge
to meditate. Of all her various workshops, she found this the most centering.
Mary had grown up in a frontier town in West Virginia where her father was
the only blacksmith. Even before she came down with the Winston Virus, she
had been magically gifted, and she had spent many happy hours using her
fledgling gifts to enhance her father's creations as she had grown up. Even
now, her specialty was enchanted items born in the forge, and she had
a reputation for making the best magical arms and armor in the world.

She could have used magic to do it, but instead she manually stoked the
flames of the forge, cleaning out clinkers and placing fresh coal in
the heart of the forge. She enjoyed the way the sullen heat felt against
her bare skin, raising a thin sheen of sweat. She climbed up onto the
bed of coal in front of the forge and sat cross legged facing the fire.
Her mind settled into a tranquil quiescence as she closed her eyes and
began carefully tending the garden of her inner mind. Meditation was a
vital practice for mages, as it allowed them time to school the powerful
forces they held within themselves. After so long alive, Mary had her own
magical powers well in hand, but it still felt good to stroke and tease
at the threads which made up her core of power. A well tended well of magic
could be used to apply greater force than a messy and wild one, and though
Mary still would have been the most powerful mage in the world by a large
margin if she stopped meditating for the next fifty years, she still wanted
to get the most bang for her buck.

After an hour, she slowly opened her eyes, satisfied that her magic was
as vibrant and powerful as ever. Truthfully it was even more so now after
she had taken the magical talents of five men the day before, but the
difference was small enough that it didn't matter.

Still naked, she walked to the shower and allowed the shower head she
had enchanted to scrub the sweat and coal dust off of her body. As
she stepped out of the shower, a spell in her towel sucked the water
off her body before her foot could even hit the floor.

She pulled on a black tank top and a pair of pure white short shorts.
The outfit was a pretty bad one for working in the forge, as she intended
to do today, but after having consumed tens of thousands of men her
skin had become tough enough to easily withstand embers and all of her
clothes were enchanted to be strong enough to stop a magically enhanced
tank blast as a matter of course. Without the magic woven into the
thin fabric stretched over her stupendous ass, the grime of the forge
would have quickly ruined the white shorts, but for Mary it wasn't a
concern.

The pots and pans in the kitchen had already prepared a nice breakfast
of eggs, sausage, pumpernickel toast, and coffee for her. When she was halfway
though the meal, her phone rang. She fished it out of the massive pocket
dimension she had created between her breasts (she found purses annoying
and always had enough cleavage to access her stuff), and glanced at it.
The identity spell she had set up told her it was Percy, the man she
had cured the night before.

She sighed. She had hoped that he was properly cured, but it seemed that
the curse had permanently effected him. Her rates of curing men were
already dismally low, but they looked even worse if you considered the
fact that most of the men she "cured" spent all their time obsessing
over her and worshiping her from afar.

She picked up, "Hi Percy. How are you feeling."

"You said if I was still feeling the same way about you I today I should
call you." He said.

"And you are still feeling the same way?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, so can you absorb me now?" He demanded. Mary's nipples were already
making noticeable dents in her tank just due to their size, but now they
stiffened even further. She couldn't help it that she found the way she made
men obsess over her hot.

"I'm not going to absorb you." She said.

"But-" He said, indignant that she was refusing to let her breasts gobble
him up.

"There is something you might be interested in though. Come back to my
house, and I'll tell you about it." She said.

She finished up her breakfast at a leisurely pace, reading the paper and
sipping her coffee slowly. The dishes knew how to take care of themselves,
so she left them on the table and went to brush her teeth. The doorbell
rang a few minutes after she finished, so she went to the door and opened
it up.

Percy had expected the door to open on its own, as it had the last time,
so he was surprised to see Mary standing in the open door frame in all
her flame haired glory. His eyes were sucked down by her cleavage once
again. Her tank top didn't display quite as much as her little micro
sweater had the day before, but there was still enough to drown in.
"Come in." She said, smiling warmly.

"T-thanks." Percy stammered, overwhelmed by her sexual presence.

"I'm not going to absorb you, so you can just give up on that idea."
She admonished.

Percy couldn't have been more frustrated, but all he said was, "Ok."

"I would much rather you just get on with your life, free of all the
effects of the Winston Virus. Are you sure you don't want to do that?"
She asked, trying one more time.

"I just want to make you more powerful." Percy confessed.

Mary sighed. "Okay then. Follow me."

Percy felt himself fall into a trance as he watched Mary's divine ass sway
back and forth while she walked deeper into the house. The inner geometry
of the house didn't seem to make any sense, and he suspected that there
were some powerful enchantments in place making it bigger on the inside
than it was on the outside.

Eventually they came to a dark room with a sullen red glow coming from
somewhere in the center. Mary snapped her fingers and magelights burst
into being all over the room. The effort of lighting the place with
raw magic would have been enough to exhaust anyone else after a few
minutes, but for Mary it seemed effortless. She was like a sorceress
out of a story: able to fling spells all day without tiring.

She walked over to a corner of the room where a mannequin that shared
Mary's jaw dropping proportions stood. It was wearing a suit of scale
mail that hugged its every contour like a second skin. The scales were
much smaller than normal for scale mail. Each scale was perhaps half a
centimeter in diameter, though they varied in size depending on where
they were. A massive sword in a huge scabbard was slung over the mannequin's
back, and a pair of heavy revolvers were holstered against its thighs.

"Each one of these scales is a man who wants me to absorb him even after
I cured him. They are all still alive and conscious. Sometimes I go
exploring other planes of existence, and when I do, they help keep me
safe. If you really want me to, I could turn you into another scale,
but before you make a decision, I want you to talk with them and see
how you feel." Some men had been put off by the worshipful chorus of
the scales and gone on to lead normal lives. Mary hoped that this would
happen with Percy, but she doubted it would happen.

Mary muttered a quick spell and walked away to let Percy talk with the
armor in private.

"So, umm. What's it like to be part of Mary's armor?" Percy asked.

The scales answered back with one voice, "Wonderful! We live to serve
our Mistress! There is no pleasure greater than being pressed against
her divine body!"

"Does it hurt to become a scale?" He asked.

"No! It is the second greatest experience possible." They replied.

Percy was not alarmed by their lockstep chorus of voices as another
might have been. He found their unity of purpose inspiring. Of course
they all had the same thoughts. They had had the privilege of being
molded to Mary's will.

"So you've decided then?" Mary asked when Percy walked over to her.

"Please turn me into a scale." He said.

She sighed. "Very well." She was going to enjoy this. Despite herself,
she always did.

She placed her hands on Percy's shoulders and sat him down in a chair
next to the armor. "Don't cum." She commanded, layering magic into her
voice so that it would be impossible to disobey.

Percy thought it would be hard to obey, but Mary's magic reinforced his
will. With a sudden motion, she ripped his shirt apart, pulling it off
him to gaze down at his bare chest. Not for the first time, Mary felt
glad that most victims of the Winston Virus were under 30. This ritual
was most enjoyable when performed on an attractive partner, and while
nowhere near Mary's league Percy fit the bill. She ripped his pants
apart with similar savagery before stepping back and smiling seductively
at him as she started to ease her shorts down over her long legs. As
she did so, she bent over at the waist, giving Percy a fantastic view
down the top of her tank. If her magic wasn't bolstering him, he long
since would have succumbed to her overwhelming sexuality.

After her shorts puddled around her bare feet, she walked forward and
straddled him, pressing his throbbing cock against his belly with her
crotch. She kissed him hungrily then before raising her hips and lining
him up with her. As she eased herself down over his straining shaft,
his expression betrayed an unbelievable ecstasy. Mary's super dense
muscles meant that her weight was unexpectedly crushing, but he had
little attention for the pain in his thighs from her powerful ass
pressing down. Her pussy rippled around his cock and her lips moved
against his with an urgency that demanded his attention.

She leaned back and pulled her tank top over her head, letting her
divine breasts filled with their cursed milk bounce free. Percy
bucked up into her, trying to press his cock as deep as it would
go within her. She moaned in pleasure and bounced harder and harder.
Before long, her hips were coming down with bone snapping force, but
Percy's bones remained thoroughly unsnapped. The pain in his thighs
was fading, and he was finding it harder and harder to move.

As Mary energetically engulfed and re-engulfed Percy, he slowly
grew more and more metallic. Her juices flowed over his hard
skin and she moaned louder as his dick literally became iron
hard within her. She continued to use him for her own pleasure
long after he had become entirely composed of enchanted steel
and it was no longer necessary. Finally, she came in a cacophony
of loud gasping moans.

After allowing herself a moment to enjoy the post-coital bliss,
she eased herself off the steel shaft and grabbed hold of the
member. With casual strength, she lifted the whole statue up
by the dick with one hand and walked over to the forge.

Over the course of the next several hours she heated different
parts of the statue in the forge before pulling it back out and
pounding on it with mighty blows over her hammer. Percy quickly
lost human shape, becoming simply a large chunk of metal. Every
time Mary's hammer landed on the metal man, he shrank, growing
more compact and stronger with every blow. Eventually, the scale
began to take shape. Once he was roughly the right size, Mary
spent a long time getting Percy's shape just right. Finally, she
walked over to a bucket and held him in front of her right nipple.
With an effort of will, she shot a jet of her cursed milk over
his cherry-red body causing clouds of steam to rise up. She continued
to douse him in milk for a long time, switching breasts halfway through.
If she stopped too early the milk would burn, forming an unpleasant black
crust.

Now that he was quenched, Mary walked over to another room and began
etching a dense wall of runes in the surface of the scale, pouring magic
down into the little thing. The protective spells she put into the scale
were strong enough that just wearing the thing as a necklace would provide
more protection than any suit of armor a lessor mage could make, but of
course this would just be one scale among thousands in her armor. Percy
was every bit as heavy as he had been when he was a human sized statue,
so most people couldn't have worn him even as a necklace, but Mary handled
him like he was a tiny bauble of jewelry.

*Do you have any preference about what part of the armor you want to be
on?* She asked the new scale mentally.

*Can I be on the bust?* Percy asked.

Mary giggled, "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

She walked back into the forge and placed Percy against the front of
her mannequin's chest. The scales around him shifted to the side to make
room for the newcomer. The scales in the neighborhood shrank so that it
would not become too crowded, and Percy himself shrank quite a bit. The
scales on the bust of Mary's armor were roughly half the size of the
scales elsewhere. Despite the extensive real estate her chest provided,
it was a popular enough location that space was at a premium. The scales
on her ass were also noticeably smaller than average, but the smallest
of all were found between her legs where popularity and limited space
combined to create scales the size of grains of sand.

Once Percy had attached himself to the ultra fine chain mail beneath the
layer of scales, the scales around him grew visibly excited, rustling against
each other. Mary smiled indulgently down at the armor. They loved it when
she wore the armor, and she always tried it on after a new addition.
The mannequin levitated up and the pants floated over to Mary. She pulled
them on over her long nude legs. The scales around the waist of her top had
to loosen up considerably to fit over her bust before they assumed their
natural state around her wasp waist. Mary pulled the top around until
she was satisfied with the way that it held her breasts. The crushing
weight compressed her like a sports bra would for an ordinary woman,
but despite the fact that the shirt weighed as much as a small battleship,
it still looked hopelessly over matched by the exuberant perkiness of
her breasts.

She snapped her fingers and a mirror popped into being in front of her.
As always, the armor made her look like a sexy Valkyrie. She turned to
the side so that she could view herself in profile, admiring the way her
ass strained against the pants and noting the jaw dropping projection of
her bosom. She activated the flight spell she had woven into each of the
scales at its lowest level, just enough to counteract the weight of the
armor. She was strong enough to bear the weight of the armor just fine,
but after she accidentally went though her floor because she hadn't been
using the flight spell, she had made a habit to always keep it on. The
floor of her forge was magically reinforced, but otherwise she would
have been cracking the concrete.

Mary removed her sword, but left her guns in place while she worked
on the commercial orders she had been planning to get to. Few other mages
could have done anything for days after a working as major as the one she
had just undertaken, but for Mary it was hardly worthy of comment.
One of her house spells notified her that a party of men was waiting in
her parlor.

"Oh heavens, is it that time again?" She asked aloud, as she finished quenching
the sword she had been working on.

A minute later she was ushering eight newcomers into her office to be gobbled
up by her ravenous bosom or turned into mage steel. The odds that any one of
them would be properly cured were somewhere around one percent, but she had
to try. Of course, the unreasonably sexy mage wouldn't mind too much if they
all ended up within her bosom or stretched over it along side Percy. The Winston
Virus was a horrifying illness for most, but for Mary Redding, the only carrier
alive, it had come with some pretty nice perks.
