A Hermazon Abroad


Hidden Hermazon Island

Somewhere in the North Atlantic

2018 A.D.


The sun shone warmly through the softly shimmering dome of the cloaking field onto the paradisal shores of Hidden Hermazon Island. The island’s pristine jungles were teeming with exotic and beautiful animals the likes of which could not be seen anywhere else on earth. Dominating the forest skyline was a huge volcano, which smoked and bubbled broodingly over the peaceful scenery below.

This island was the secret home of the mystical Hermazons; a race of women legendary for their beauty, incredible physical strength, insatiable libidos, and massive, swinging dongs. The Hermazons lived in harmony with nature and wanted for nothing thanks to their advanced magical technology.

Today, the Hermazon High Council was gathered in the Grand Ampitheatre at the center of Hermazon City. Two hundred and fifty women —the entire council— had assembled to decide an issue of pressing importance. An issue that threatened their entire society.

The atmosphere was tense. The heated discussions between the seated councilwomen filled the ampitheatre with a dull roar. Dongala, First Sister of the Hermazons, stood and called for quiet.

 “My sisters, please!” she spoke over the noise of the assembly. “We must come to order!”

The volume of the conversation rose sharply as the assembly continued to argue amongst itself.

“I said order!” shouted Dongala, raising her fist in the air. The large, jeweled ring on the middle finger of her upraised fist blazed with blinding light, dazzling everyone in the room and quelling all speech.

Satisfied that she had the attention of the council, Dongala nodded and lowered herself gingerly to her seat, cradling her gravid belly in one hand and steadying herself against the back of her chair with the other. Like the entire rest of the council, the First Sister was massively pregnant and that morning was feeling it acutely. Perhaps fittingly given her senior office, her belly was among the most massive in the chamber, giving it the appearance of a mahogany-brown yoga ball that filled her entire lap out past her knees. Her cock was also proportionate to her office: when she was seated, her member dangled nearly to the floor, the folds of her voluminous foreskin just brushing the cool marble. It was probably the second most impressive phallus on the island —third if one counted the twenty-foot erection on the statue of the island’s patron goddess, Hermazonia.

In more measured tones, Dongala spoke again.

“Sisters, thank you for attending this special convening of the Council of Hermazons,” she said, looking out over the seated assembly. “As you are all aware, our ten-thousand year old civilization is on the brink of collapse. Athenica, the greatest daughter of the Hermazons, is simply too virile! Her lust is insatiable, her body: irresistible. In the few short weeks since her coming of age, she has impregnated nearly twenty percent of the island’s eligible breeding population. According to GAIA, we are only a handful of pregnancies away from permanent, irreparable harm to Hermazon genetic diversity. We are in a crisis and must vote on a desperate plan.”

“Do we really need a vote?” demanded Shecockra, commander of the Hermazon militia. Like Dongala, she was colossaly pregnant with several of Athenica’s babies. Her ornate ceremonial breastplate rested comically atop the massive sphere of her belly, barely covering her swollen, milk-dribbling breasts, much less her gravid torso.

“We all know what needs to be done,” continued Shecockra in fervent tones. “Banishment is the only way!”

“There’s never only one way!” objected Shlongelissa from the opposite side of the ampitheatre. The head of the Hermazon Breeding Committee, Shlongelissa struggled to stand but was ultimately defeated by her unwieldy baby bump. Shlongelissa would have been a petit woman even by the standards of the outside world, to her sister Hermazons she was basically a midget, practically invisible behind the rotund curvature of her pregnancy. With effort, she was able to climb up her belly so that she could at least see over the top and look Shecockra in the eye.

Shlongelissa grunted with effort and elaborated on her objection.

“As I was saying, there’s never only one way; Hermazon science is the most advanced on Mother Earth, there must be solutions we haven’t yet explored. Athenica embodies the culmination of thousands of years of directed breeding. She represents the genetic peak of Hermazonity! Did we strive for millennia to create her just to cast her aside?”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Shecockra growled, “you and the rest of the ‘preggers patrol’ are equally to blame for the current crisis. You should all be banished just like your monstrous spawn!”

The assembled members of the Hermazon Breeding Committee leapt to their feet to defend themselves —sans Shlongelissa, of course, who remained trapped beneath her gravid midsection— shouting heatedly across the ampitheatre at Shecockra and the rest of the militia representatives. Shecockra and the militia members responded with no less fervor, and soon the entire council had erupted into a boiling chaos of shouting, pointing and table thumping. Shecockra had one foot up on her desk and was waggling her veiny cock in the direction of the Breeding Committee while Shlongelissa hurled crumpled wads of parchment across the floor, striking several irate militia leaders.

Dongala’s ring blazed again, stunning the chamber back into silence. The furious, hormonal Hermazons returned grudgingly to order. With much grunting, sighing and hissing, the two hundred and fifty pregnant women returned to their seats.

Dongala addressed the head of the Science Council.

“Glansacia, you represent the finest scientific minds on the island and, therefore, the world. Your sister raised the possibility of solutions other than banishment. Has your team come any closer to a scientific solution?”

Glansacia stood and bowed her head in contrition.

“Regrettably not, First Sister,” answered the Hermazon chief scientist. “As you can see from my own condition, our laboratories’ latest ultra-contraceptive is no defense against Athenica’s super-sperm…” she rubbed her belly by way of illustration. Her baby bump was the smallest in the council. On her six and a half foot frame it looked proportionately almost normal.

“But you were able to limit the pregnancy to only twins!” interjected Shlongelissa. “That shows progress!”

Glansacia shook her head sadly. “To strengthen the contraceptive any more would put the user’s reproductive capacity at serious risk, and even if we limited Athenica’s productivity to twins and singles, we’d still only be prolonging the inevitable. As the head of the Breeding Committee, you should know better than any of us the threat Athenica poses to the Hermazon gene pool.”

Shlongelissa opened her mouth to object, but couldn’t think of anything to say. She sank, dejected, back behind the monster curve of her belly.

“And there’s been no success in reducing Athenica’s virility?” Dongala asked the chief scientist.

Glansacia shook her head again.

“Our experiments were worse than failure. As you know, when the crisis first became apparent, Athenica volunteered for chemical castration. Unfortunately, when we injected the formula, her body’s supernatural adaptive abilities not only negated the chemicals’ effect, but actually tripled her reproductive capacity in response!”

“Seriously,” groaned Shlongelissa from behind her oversized belly. Hers was easily the largest in the chamber and was doomed to grow larger, as she was carrying a whopping nine babies.

“And of course all Hermazons’ regenerative abilities make us immune to vasectomy and emasculation… not that we would ever consider the latter of course,” Glansacia continued.

“Of course,” growled Shecockra. “It is forbidden for a Hermazon to harm a Sister, be she Hermazon or normal female. We can’t keep her, we can’t kill her, so she must go!”

“But she’s committed no crime!” Shlongalissa cried. “It’s not against our laws to have sex! If anything our entire culture celebrates the act of physical love! Banishment is a sentence for the wicked and unworthy! Athenica is the greatest of all of us!”

The council threatened to dissolve into chaos once again as the assembled women chimed in with their own opinions.

“Actually I have a proposition,” a tall, dazzlingly beautiful woman stood up at the far end of the chamber. This was Bozomena, Athenica’s sire and the only woman in the chamber not pregnant by Athenica. She was just pregnant by a coincidence. Bozomena’s resemblance to her infamous daughter was unmistakable. Seven feet tall and swinging a salami that was an easy competitor with Dongala’s in both length and girth while her colossal balls dangled between her thighs, visible even beneath the hem of her robes.

“Speak Bozomena, don’t leave us in suspense!” called Shecockra.

Bozomena nodded at the head of the militia, then looked down at Dongala.

“As you know, I serve as the island’s foreign minister,” she began, pausing to allow a sardonic chuckle to circulate around the councilwomen. “I’m well aware position is largely honorary, considering we’ve had no contact with the outside world for nearly a century. Nevertheless, I am responsible for overseeing all Hermazon interactions with the outside world. I’d like to propose the appointment of a permanent ambassador to the outside.”

Dongala nodded slowly as she grasped the meaning behind Bozomena’s proposal.

“Do you have a nominee in mind?” asked the First Sister.

“I believe Athenica, being the best and most perfect of all Hermazons, would be the ideal representative of our island to the outside world,” answered Bozomena.

“I second the nomination!” half a dozen women yelled out in unison.

Two hundred and forty nine hands went up. The hovering crystal representing GAIA, the Hermazon central computer, glowed green to indicate its assent.

“Shlongelissa…” said Dongala, “the vote must be unanimous.”

“My hand is raised!” yelled Shlongelissa, waving frantically from behind her gigantic belly.

Dongala nodded and stretched her arms out to form a “Y” with palms upturned to the sky.

“Then it is decided. Athenica shall become Hermazon Island’s ambassador to the outside world, to remain abroad indefinitely,” she pronounced, relieved that they had not had to banish Hermazonia’s greatest daughter. Her mission to the outside world might give the Hermazons enough time to recover and come up with a more permanent solution.

“So shall it be,” spoke the rest of the council in unison.

“This council is adjourned. As First Sister I invoke my privilege for head of line rights to the bathroom!”

The stately, mega-pregnant Hermazon leaped out of her seat and made an ungainly sprint toward the exit, her sister Hermazons hot on her heels.



Practically the entire island showed up to wish Athenica farewell. The crowd filled the entire pier and lined the shore for nearly a mile in both directions. Pteradons squawked as they circled curiously overhead, intrigued by the large gathering below.

Everyone was wearing festival colors to show their love and support for their sister Hermazon as she embarked on her journey. There was hardly a dry eye in the crowd. Everyone on Hermazon island loved Athenica and would miss her dearly. The five and a half thousand women carrying her children were especially sorry to see her go, as Athenica’s mighty battering ram of a cock had ruined their loins for any other Hermazon.

Athenica stood at the end of the pier, head and shoulders over the rest of the crowd. Although she was only just eighteen, the mighty Hermazon was more than amply developed, standing just over seven and a half feet tall, and tipping the scales at nearly six hundred pounds. She was a tower of bulging muscle, smoothed and overlaid with enough well-placed fat to assure a feminine softness. She was as broad across the shoulders as any two Hermazons standing side-by-side and nearly as wide in the hips. Her shapely ass was round as a peach and tight as a drum, while her magnificent bust would have easily put a pair of prize watermelons to shame. Each massive tit stood well out from her chest like an erect torpedo, in complete defiance of gravity and common sense. Her smooth skin was rich acorn-brown darkening to milk chocolate around her heavily swinging cock and balls. Completely flaccid, her massive member was as thick as an ordinary human’s arm and hung down to her knees, resting atop a pair of testicles as big as coconuts. Her foreskin dangled nearly a foot beyond the bulbous, flaring tip, leaving plenty of slack for growth to come.  Even completely soft, Athenica’s dick was easily the largest of any Hermazon. Erect, it was nearly as large as a Hermazon.

Athenica was dressed in traditional Hermazon style: a V-cut orange jerkin with gold trim, cinched at the waist by a broad girdle of gleaming Hermazonium alloy, matching bracers and grieves. She wore no pants or skirt, leaving her thighs naked and her massive cock free to swing in the salty breeze. Her large feet were bare and her dark, flowing hair hung unbound down to her shoulder blades.

Dongala, First Sister of the Hermazons, stood at the front of the crowd and faced Athenica. She raised her hand to signal for quiet.

“Sister Athenica,” she said, looking up at Athenica’s face and raising her voice so be heard above the surf. “Daughter of Hermazon, time has come for you to leave our secret island and enter the outside world. It is your duty to carry the spirit of Hermazon in your heart and the future of Hermazon in your loins. Sow the seed of our people wisely and widely.”

“T-thank you, first sister,” Athenica stammered, sniffing back tears.

“It is traditional to bestow a departing sister with three gifts to aid her on her journey to the outside world,” said Dongala.

On cue, Glansacia stepped forward from the crowd bearing a golden tiara set with a glittering opal. Athenica obligingly bowed low to allow the chief scientist to place the tiara on her head.

“The Tiara of Telepathy,” declared Dongala. “With it, you will be able to contact Hermazon Island at any time via mental telepathy. Call us whenever you feel lonely and your sisters will be there to speak to you.”

A Sister with long, purple hair stepped forward from behind Dongala. Draped between her outstretched hands was a ruby amulet slung on a thick, gold chain. Just being in the presence of Athenica was enough to give the purple-haired Sister a raging hard-on that could have easily been used as a towel rack.

“The Amulet of Unlimited Attire,” said Dongala, taking the amulet from the Sister’s hands. She reached around Athenica’s bull-like trapezius muscles and gently fastened the amulet behind the massive Hermazon’s neck. Dongala savored the warm smoothness of Athenica’s skin brushing her arms and breathed deeply of the spicy scent of the super-Hermazon’s body.

The underside of Athenica’s black hair was a bright, metallic gold so shiny that Dongala could see her own reflection in the curved inner surface. Athenica made a sound and Dongala became aware that her erection was pressing into Athenica’s bulging thigh.

The First Sister cleared her throat and reluctantly withdrew; her loins aching and her cock harder than carbon steel. The arm-sized erection pressed upward into the bulge of her belly, lifting the whole baby bump and raising Dongala’s milk-swollen bosom clear up to her chin.

Dongala lifted her chin and spoke over her cleavage. “Simply touch the ruby while picturing the clothes you desire and the amulet will garb you accordingly. If you remove the amulet, the clothes will vanish, so it’s probably best to create outfits that will go with a giant ruby amulet.”

Athenica snorted and grinned. Standing up straight, she took the amulet in her hands and closed her eyes. There was a flash and she was suddenly clothed in a long, flowing gown of finest gossamer trimmed with gold. The sheer fabric hugged her every curve where the breeze pressed it to her body.

Half a million Hermazons started drooling simultaneously and there were more than a few spontaneous cumshots.

Dongala’s own sizable cock started dripping precum in a steady stream, but her mental discipline was sufficient to restrain from spontaneous orgasm.

A pregnant Sister with bulging biceps like veiny melons and a cock that would have shamed a horse stepped forward. She carried a gold-trimmed velvet pillow where rested a large, gold signet ring. The proximity to Athenica was too much for the poor girl and a rope of cum the size of an actual rope exploded from the flaring mushroom-head of her dick. Hot jizz splattered all over Athenica’s thighs. The Sister blushed a deep red and tried not to make eye contact.

The party stood in silence for several seconds while they waited for the hapless sister’s ejaculation to abate, but each time the flow seemed to be slowing down, she’d blow yet another gargantuan load. Athenica’s thighs and calves were thoroughly frosted and the loads just kept piling on. Her gossamer gown was pasted to her legs by the sticky spunk and she stood in a growing puddle that leaked between the boards of the dock and dripped loudly into the water below.

Finally, with a shudder and a sigh, the shaky-kneed sister’s cock started to droop, a few halfhearted spurts

Dongala took the ring from the blushing Sister and held it up “The Ring of—”

SPLOOOOOOOOOOOOGE! The other Sister’s cock suddenly sprung back up to full hardness and unleashed a torrential spray of cum that splashed across Athenica’s tits, coated her torso and put a fresh glaze on her mighty legs. Athenica closed her eyes as a stray glob of jizz slapped her in the face like a handful of white mud.

Sploot… sploot… the flow died down into a few lethargic spurts and the poor orgasm-addled girl trembled and collapsed into the arms of the Sisters behind her. Blushing, they carried her gently back and out of sight.

Once order had been restored, Dongala cleared her throat and held up the ring again.

“The Ring of Babel,” said Dongala, slipping it on one of Athenica’s huge-yet-feminine fingers. “With this you shall be able to both speak and understand any tongue of womankind.”

Athenica tested it out by saying “thank you,” in six languages.

Donagala withdrew, head bowed solemnly.

“Now, Sister Athenica, Daughter of Hermazonia, the time has come for you to leave us,” announced the First Sister. “Though your mission will take you far from our shores, you will always have a home here on the Hidden Island of the Hermazons. Go to spread love and peace, Sister.”

Dongala stepped forward and embraced the huge Hermazon as closely as her massive belly and Athenica’s watermelon-like tits would allow. The First Sister planted a huge kiss on the girl’s tear-stained cheeks and stepped back to give the other Hermazons a chance to say goodbye. She tried to ignore the cum smeared across her entire front.

Bozomena, stepped forward and kissed her daughter.

“You are the greatest seed of my loins,” she said. “I will always love you and be proud of you.”

“T-thanks, dad,” Athenica sniffed and wiped her nose with a forearm like a steel girder.

(Of course Athenica didn’t actually use the word “dad” but the Hermazon word for the mother that supplied the sperm. “Dad” is as good a translation as any).

Athenica’s mother, Hungarella stepped forward. She had a figure like an Earth goddess, with massive tits that obscured her entire torso and much of her thighs. An ass like an inflatable raft provided a counterweight to her colossal rack. Her cock was easily a match for Athenica’s in terms of girth and it hung down nearly to her knees. Like Bozomena, she was only a few inches shorter than Athenica and one of the tallest Hermazons on the island. Combined with her outrageous proportions, it gave her the appearance of a mobile mountain of tits, ass and cock.

“Remember the people of the outside world are not hermaphrodites,” Hungarella said, holding her daughter’s hands. “They will probably be shocked by your appearance. They are also smaller and more frail than Hermazons. Even among us your strength is legendary. There, you will be irresistible and essentially invulnerable. Remember this and treat them gently. Also, though they may look frail, your Hermazon magic will allow them to handle your endowment without harm, so feel free to fuck to your heart’s content.”

Athenica smiled. “I will, mother.”

A few other Hermazons stepped forward to give words of advice or just to share one last hug. Several unfortunate Hermazons who never got to ride Athenica’s legendary cock took their last opportunity to grope the colossal member.

With all the rubbing and touching and hugging and kissing, Athenica was almost fully hard within minutes. Her gargantuan schlong stood out like the bowsprit of a man-o-war, easily three feet long and as thick as her calf. Her awesome balls swelled and churned with seed, swelling beneath her shaft like a pair of prize pumpkins.

A girl named Hornema overcome by the sight rushed forward and crouched in front of Athenica’s elephantine member. She clamped her mouth over the gaping cumslit (there was no way she could have fit the grapefruit-sized glans in her mouth) and worked the veiny shaft with both hands.

The other Hermazons murmured and stirred uneasily, all of them filled with envy that it wasn’t them with Athenica’s sloppy precum running down their chins.

Athenica let out a soft moan and her massively swinging nuts tightened up under her tree-like shaft. The eager Hermazon servicing her cock was almost blasted backwards off her feet by the force of Athenica’s ejaculation, and it was only Hornema’s Hermazon strength that allowed her to keep her grip on the flared ridges of Athenica’s mushroom head. Fighting back against the force of the spray, Hornema pulled herself forward and clamped her mouth over the cum-gushing firehose. Her belly ballooned out, reaching the size of a beachball in seconds, then a yoga ball, then a beanbag chair and expanding to still greater size. Her belly filled her lap and reached the ground, where it spread across the pier with alarming speed.

Not all the cum was gushing down the girl’s throat. Gallons of it sprayed out to either side of her face and poured down her chest in thick, pudding-like folds. It splattered on the boards of the pier and stray ropes flew out into the crowd, splattering on the onlookers.

Hornema’s belly grew and grew until it lifted her up off the pier and into the air. Her belly spilled over either side of the pier while the wood creaked dangerously beneath her. The other Hermazons started to retreat, uncertain how well the millennia-old wood of the ancient dock would hold up beneath so much weight.

Finally, Athenica’s load waned and she was able to detach herself from Hornema’s ravenous gullet. The comparatively tiny Hermazon rested semi-conscious atop a sloshing belly the size of a large toolshed. She’d come multiple times herself, the ecstasy of Athenica’s delicious cumshot overwhelmed her senses and sent her into a reverie of delight. The wooden pier creaked and bowed perilously beneath her as her body twitched and spasmed with further spontaneous orgasms. She was completely coated with Athenica’s jizz. She looked like someone had set a giant, frosted sugar bun on the pier.

There was silence on the Hermazon coast for several seconds. The crowd watched Hornema’s legs twitch and her toes curl and uncurl as her footlong cock spurted down the curvature of her immense, cum-stuffed belly. She belched loudly and a bucketful of cum spewed from her slack lips to splatter down her front in a slow-moving waterfall.

The crowd burst into applause and cheers. Athenica, temporarily spent, leaned around the bulging sides of Hornema’s belly to wave farewell to the island, then she turned and dove into the sea.

Behind her, ropes of cum shot into the air like fireworks; long white streamers that splattered back down on the heads of the cheering crowd and splashed into the water around Athenica.

Athenica swam faster than a speedboat and within minutes only the white spume of water thrown up by her kicking legs was visible in the distance. Before long, even that vanished over the horizon.

The cheering, sobbing, horny crowd dispersed to soothe their aching hearts with whatever pursuits provided them with the most satisfactory distraction.

The bulbous shape of her massive silhouette eclipsing the setting sun, Hornema called out.

“Um, excuse me? Is anyone still there? Can somebody drag me home?”

The night was silent except for the wind and surf.


A Hermazon Abroad

End of Chapter I




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Wow! Well this is right up my alley. Can't wait to hear where you take this story. I'm trying to a imagine a hyper-hung indestructable seven and a half foot futa-amazon walking, or perhaps more likely strutting the streets fucking any woman she comes across. Oh, this is gonna be good. :-)

As always, love your writing and the unlikely, over-the-top characters and scenarios you create, and the overall light and irreverent tone you take with your stories.

Didn't care so much for the characterization of Bozomena as "dad". if they were an ancient civilization "father" would be better I think but minor quibble. :-) 

Yes, please write many chapters! Great work, as always.